The Awful Truth
by Scribble2Much
Summary: Dean pretends he has nothing to hide, but he has secrets he'll never tell anyone, especially not Sam. Companion piece to "Deep Dark Secrets".
1. Prelude to Catastrophe

**The Awful Truth**

**Summary:** Dean pretends he has nothing to hide, but he has secrets he'll never tell anyone, especially not Sam. Companion piece to "Deep Dark Secrets".

**A/N: **This follows on after "Deep Dark Secrets". If you haven't read that story, it provides some amount of context, particularly for the first chapter, but it isn't completely necessary for you to get gist of what's happening in this fic.

**A/N: **From the moment I started writing "Deep Dark Secrets" and delving into all the things that Sam had to hide, I knew I'd have to write about Dean's secrets as well. So here's a look into the depths of the mind and heart of Dean Winchester. Buyer beware.

* * *

**ONE **

**Prelude to Catastrophe **

Afterwards, when the seemingly unbreakable bond between them had been shattered, Dean realized that the entire catastrophe could have been avoided if he been vulnerable enough to confide in Sam.

Dean had his chance to be open with his brother, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sam had given him the perfect opportunity but Dean passed it up.

Always conscious of his older sibling's tendency towards emotional impenetrability, Sam had waited until they had drunk a few rounds before he broached the subject. But not even three double shots of Jack could get Dean talking.

They had gone out drinking to celebrate that their latest major blow up had been smoothly resolved. As blow ups go, this one had been particularly bad, even by Winchester standards. In a weak moment, Sam had written out his darkest confessions and as Winchester luck would have it, Dean had read every word.

The resulting confrontation had been spectacular.

However once again, even after all the hurtful words had been said, when the anger had blown off they'd patched things up. As far as Dean was concern the case was closed and the issues were resolved; but for Sam, it wasn't that simple.

Initially, he had felt relieved that after everything Dean had discovered, his brother hadn't shown him even the slightest hint of disdain. However, in the aftermath of the revelations, Sam was now feeling an unprecedented level of vulnerability. He had been totally unprepared for the insecurity that followed the exposure of secrets he had worked hard to keep buried. That insecurity left him hesitant to take Dean's acceptance at face value. Now, he was constantly wondering how his brother really felt about him having discovered the depths to which Sam had sunk in some of his more desperate hours.

Reactively, Sam had been seized by a desire to know if Dean had any similar secrets. Maybe they would be back on some form of equal footing if he knew what his big brother had to hide. There were very few secrets between two people who lived as closely as they did. But given what Sam had been hiding, he knew he'd be fooling himself to think that Dean always told him the whole truth.

However, broaching the subject proved particularly problematic for Sam. At the heart of the matter was a deep fear that he would invite his brother to confide in him and Dean would push him away. That fear led to Sam's inspired idea to use liquor to loosen Dean's tongue and build his own resolve. So, it was in a dimly lit bar, in a backend town, after a few rounds that Sam finally popped the question.

"So Dean," he grinned, buzzed enough to actually try to sound lighthearted. "Now that you know the dirt on me, is there anything I should know about you?"

Dean's attention moved from the blond in the short skirt at the pool table to his little brother. Sam's words may have been said with a breezy, flippant smile, but his face told another story. The puppy-dog eyes were beseeching.

_**Please talk to me.** _

Sam may as well have spoken the words because Dean heard them loud and clear. Caught off guard, Dean could only hold eye contact for a few seconds before guilt had him looking away.

**_I can't Sammy._ **

Instantly, the fleeting remorse was replaced by a wicked grin.

"You know me," Dean shrugged, "I'm an open book."

It was a lie and they both knew it. And on hearing the fabrication Sam tried to keep the deep hurt that was engulfing his heart from reflecting on his face.

"Oh come on," he said teasingly. "Everybody's has something to hide."

Taking a quick swig of beer, Sam smiled at his recalcitrant sibling trying his best to intonate that this was casual guy-talk. But Sam's eyes couldn't lie; at least not to the big brother who had been reading them from the day he was born. It was plain as day to Dean what Sam was inwardly saying.

_**Trust me. Please.**_

It had never been easy to deny his little brother when Sam appealed to his emotions. This time, however, Dean summoned the resistance.

_**No Sammy, I won't risk it. **_

Keeping his own fake smile in place, Dean shoved his brother's shoulder playfully.

"Sam," he kept his tone light. "I'm a dropout without a red cent to my name; almost everything I own can fit in a duffle bag, I drink too much and I sleep around. All my sins are right out there for all the world to see."

Sam pretended to laugh, although his eyes let him down.

_**I told you my secrets.**_

_**No you didn't. I found them out. **_

The difference was critical in Dean's estimation. The revelation of his brother's secrets had been a discovery, not a confession. And yes, Sam's secrets had been hard to hear but Dean had forgiven his little brother and he'd gotten over it just like he always did. However, if the tables turned Dean wasn't sure Sam would let him off so easily.

He figured Sam probably felt some lingering humiliation that things he had wanted to keep hidden had now come fully to light. And knowing how his brother's mind worked, Dean suspected that Sam felt that a reciprocal confession would ease the burden of his embarrassment.

However, while he rarely refused Sam anything that his little brother really wanted, this time Dean just couldn't oblige. One fact that Dean had never been able to stand was that Sam had proven over and over that he was capable of leaving and not looking back. So neither the lubrication of hard liquor nor the sight of Sam's pleading eyes could pry the truth from his lips. Dean wasn't about to give his little brother a reason to walk away.

Needing a smooth exit off the slippery slope Dean turned up his trademark devilish grin.

"Hey," he gestured towards the mini-clad blond. "Think I should try my luck?"

Sam's disappointment was crushing. Instead of honesty and vulnerability his brother was keeping him at arm's length with his to hell and back with the world routine. Grudgingly, Sam gave his brother credit; Dean could certainly put on a good show. And knowing that a breakthrough was as unlikely as a snowstorm in the summer Sam gave up the clandestine interrogation.

"Go for it," Sam stood and drained his glass. "I think I'll head back to the motel."

"Already? We're not even up to the legal limit."

"You keep at it. I'm gonna turn in."

"It's no fun drinking by myself."

"Don't worry," Sam nodded in the blonde's direction. "I'm sure you'll have no problem finding company."

Sam pulled a few crumpled bills out of his pocket and dropped them on the table. "This one's on me. See you in the morning."

Dean watched Sam walk out and saw the disappointment clearly reflected in every inch of his brother's six foot, four inch frame.

"Sorry Sammy," he whispered, downing his last shot. "There are some things that you're just better off not knowing."

Maybe, if Dean had opened up to his brother the impact of the calamity that followed would not have been quite so devastating.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. A Risky Proposition

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone for the great response to this series. Enjoy the next installment.

**A/N: **Although this is heavily based on canon please note, it's also highly AU.

* * *

**TWO**

**A Risky Proposition**

For an entire day after the failed confessional an uncomfortable silence hung in the air between Sam and Dean. In an attempt to lighten things up, Dean dragged Sam out, grabbed two lunches at a drive-thru and took him to a picnic site. They sat at a concrete table some distance from a manmade lake that was at the centre of the park.

Sam picked disinterestedly at a salad while Dean ate a burger without any of his trademark enthusiasm. Finally, when Dean realized his brother had no intention of making an effort to have a conversation, be broke the silence.

"You know Sammy, I was thinking, how long has it been since we took some time off and just did nothing?"

Sam shrugged and speared a tomato wedge.

"Maybe we should take a week, go down to Florida, hit the beach and watch the girls in bikinis."

"Sure Dean, whatever you wanna do."

"Well, what do you wanna do?"

"Do you really care what I want?"

"Excuse me? It's always been about what you want."

The argument stopped abruptly when a cold wind swept over the table and Castiel materialized.

"Oh crap Cas!" Dean cursed. "Give a guy some warning."

Immediately Sam glanced around to see if anyone else noticed the angel's sudden appearance. Seeing the park's few other visitors appeared unperturbed, Sam turned his attention back to Castiel. A sudden visit from Cas was never a good sign; and this time, the angel looked particularly grim.

"I'm afraid I have news that you will both find extremely disturbing."

"And when has it ever been otherwise?" Dean asked dryly.

In response, Castiel cast a long-suffering look in Dean's direction. "This will be particularly distressing for you."

"At this stage of the game there are very few things that actually _dis stress_ me but don't let me stop your build up to the big reveal."

Sam cautioned his brother with a look.

"Dean, I think he's serious."

Dean replied with a careless shrug. "O.K. Cas let's hear it."

"I have credible information that Alistair has escaped from hell."

Not even Dean's legendary poker-face could get him through this one. His eyes darkened first with fear, then with anger. But it was Sam who reacted verbally.

_"What?"_

"Alistair has escaped from hell."

"I heard that. What I want to know is how the hell did that happen?"

"I am not exactly familiar with their security procedures. What I do know is that he'll most certainly come after Dean."

It was there for less than a second, but Sam didn't miss the look of terror that briefly ghosted across his brother's features. Seeking to reassure, Sam caught Dean's gaze and held it; at times like this, they didn't need words to communicate.

_**Nothing's going to happen to you as long as I'm here.**_

_**Trust me Sam; you don't wanna mess with this bastard.**_

"Cas, I take it you're going to tell us how to stop him." Sam's tone clearly indicated he wasn't entertaining any alternatives.

"Yes, I am."

Dean swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just run and hide. Cas may have pulled him out of hell but deep down, he knew he would never really escape.

"We're listening," he said ensuring that none of the fear in his heart reflected in his voice.

But he couldn't fool Sam.

_**We'll get you out of this.**_

_**No Sammy, I'll never be out of it.**_

Oblivious to the silent conversation between the brothers, Cas went on.

"When you were in hell Dean there was never a thought that you could escape. Because he expected you to be there for eternity, Alistair spoke freely about several things."

"Several things like what?"

"He revealed how he could be destroyed, permanently."

"You have it wrong Cas. We didn't exactly have conversations and when he did speak to me it was hardly to confide. So I don't know what it is you think I know but I don't have the slightest clue."

"You do but you don't realize because you don't remember most of what happened to you in hell."

"Oh I remember everything just fine Cas. You spend forty years with the universe's most inventive sadist and you're not likely to forget a single minute."

"That's where you're wrong Dean. I'm sure you remember a lot but before I dragged you out I made sure that the most horrific experiences were blocked out."

"Well you did a damn poor job of it." Sam put in. He lived with the after effects of his brother's sojourn in the pit. The nightmares in particular were horrific, even for him.

"I have to agree with Sam, Cas. Big fail on that one, it's still all there."

"Believe me Dean; we wouldn't be talking now if I hadn't protected you from the full effects of Alistair's torture. You would mostly likely have been institutionalized or worse."

Dean chuckled bitterly. "Well some would argue I'm not too far off from that."

Sam recognized the self-deprecating bravado for what it was; Dean's attempt to beat back panic.

_**We'll figure this out.**_

_**No. This is never going to end.**_

"What exactly are you saying Cas?" Sam asked.

"I'm saying you're not the only one who got a wall. A similar protective mechanism was utilized for Dean when he returned from hell."

"Well," Dean's façade remained firmly intact. "Both you and Death should have your construction license revoked."

"The measures I took to protect you are failsafe, this is not about a threat to your mental state it's about a threat to your life. Alistair will try to eliminate you because you know his secret."

"So," Sam interjected, "We'll have to use this secret, whatever it is, to stop him."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Dean asked his brother. "Considering I have no clue what it is."

"You know," Cas informed Dean. "You just can't remember."

"Which brings us back to same place."

"Unless there's a way to jog Dean's memory." Sam looked at Cas and then at his brother.

"Exactly," Cas confirmed. "And that presents a particularly troubling challenge."

"Troubling challenge?" Sam wasn't even going to debate the issue. "We're talking about Dean's life. Just tell us what the hell to do and we'll do it."

"I will," Cas said ominously. "But neither of you is going to like it."

"We're listening," Sam spoke up for both of them.

"If you could see inside the human mind you'd realize it looks very much like a rather large mansion. The rooms in the front section are where you store the everyday information that you need to access quickly. You also keep your most pleasant and cherished memories in close proximity. The things you'd rather forget are in the backrooms of the far wings of the house and behind that are the things you don't want anyone to know."

Sam glanced at his brother, but Dean seemed to have developed a strong interest in the graffiti etched across the concrete picnic table.

"Buried in the farthest recesses of your mind are the things you've blocked out because they're too traumatic for you to remember."

"Like Hell," once again, it was Sam who spoke up.

"Exactly," Cas confirmed. "When I got Dean out of hell I sealed some doors to lock away the worst memories of his time there. That includes the memory of Alistair's revelations."

"I'm not buying any of this Cas," Dean interrupted. "I remember hell just like it was yesterday so that blows your locked door theory out the window."

"You remember some parts of hell. Believe me; we wouldn't be having this conversation if you remembered all of it. Now unfortunately, in order to beat Alistair we have to go back in time to the moment when he told Dean what could kill him."

"And how do we do that?" Sam asked, "Hypnosis?"

"No. With hypnosis Dean would have to relive at least some aspects of the trauma and we can't take that risk."

"Then how can he go back in time?"

"Dean wouldn't go back Sam, you would."

_"Me?"_

"Yes. You would have to go into Dean's subconscious and get the information we need."

"Wait a minute," Dean interrupted. "Does anyone plan to ask me about any of this crap? Considering it's my head and my memories, I may just have something to say on the matter. "

Dean found himself staring into two very alarmed faces, but that didn't stop his protest.

"If either of you is concern about what I think I'm not buying any of this."

Sam rounded on his brother. "Shut up Dean!" he hissed and then turned his attention back to Cas. "What have you got in mind?"

"Calea Zacatechichi," Cas informed.

Trying to control his mounting rage Dean reinserted himself in argument. "What the hell is that?"

"It means leaf of the gods."

"You mean dream herb?" Sam asked.

"You are familiar with the substance?"

"I've read about it. It's similar to dream root."

"Dream root?" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. "The last time I took that I not only had a psychopath in my head I ended up almost beating myself to death. No way I'm doing that again."

Dean declined to articulate that the worst part of the experience was having his private daydream about a life and a family with a woman like Lisa play out in front of his brother. Needs he had always denied ever having had been laid bare before the person to whom he most often denied them. He had barely been able to look Sam in the face after that and now he was expected to give his brother full access to the dark side of his memories? Not as long as he was alive and in his right mind.

"Dream herb is slightly different from dream root," Cas explained. "You would simply be asleep, Sam would be transported back to witness everything that happened."

"So Sam just walks right into my head and gets a good look at the life and times of Dean Winchester like it's some summer blockbuster?"

"Dean listen to me…"

"No you listen. I'm not letting anybody walk up and down in my head unsupervised."

"I'm not just anybody Dean; for god's sake I'm your brother."

"So what? You think that gives you some kind of all- access pass to my mind?"

"It wouldn't be like that," Cas explained. "Everything that you've categorized as secret is actually hidden behind closed doors; Sam won't see anything unless he starts to open them. All he has to do is ensure that he go straight to the door that encloses the worst memories of hell and all he'll see is you and Alistair."

"So how will I know how to find the right door?"

"Knowing the full extent of what Dean went through that door will be at the end of the furthest corner. You'll find it's rather distinct."

"Well that settles it. I'll go in and go straight there and come back out."

Dean couldn't believe that, once again, Sam and Cas were discussing an issue that so integrally concerned him as if he wasn't there. Where the hell did either of them get off acting like he had no choice in the matter?

"You don't have to worry about any of that Sam because I'm not gonna do it. Now can we start devoting our collective energies to thinking of another way to deal with this problem because this dream leaf crock ain't gonna fly."

Sam stared, openmouthed at his headstrong sibling.

"We're trying to save your life Dean."

"Yeah and I got a vested interest in that myself. But I'll do it the old fashion way and gank that bastard."

"How? We don't even know what will kill him."

"We'll figure something out."

_"When?"_ Sam asked, exasperated. "After he's killed you?"

At his brother's remark the memories of the pain and humiliation Dean had suffered at Alistair's hands resurfaced. The surge of emotion came on too quick for Dean to mask the hurt in his eyes.

_**Don't throw that at me Sammy; don't make me sound so weak.**_

_**If I'm not a match for him neither are you.**_

"Dean," Cas said somberly. "I would suggest you take this seriously."

"Cas is right Dean," Sam agreed. "This is not a game."

"It's easy for you to talk Sam, no one's going inside your head."

"This won't be simple for Sam either," Castiel informed them. "There's no way he can actually learn what Alistair told you and not witness at least some of the pain he inflicted on you when he said it."

Cas turned to the younger Winchester. "You're going to have to watch your brother endure unspeakable torture and you won't be able to stop it. Are you prepared for that?"

His own feelings were the least of Sam's concern. "I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to keep that monster from ever getting near Dean again."

Dean, however, was unmoved by his brother magnanimity.

"Since it appears I was unclear let me break it down for both of you. I'm not giving anyone a free ticket to mess with my head, not even Sam. Now either we start thinking about plan B or I'll just have to deal with that bastard on my own."

Dean was on his feet and walking away before Sam or Cas could respond.

"Sam," Cas said gravely as they watched Dean retreat. "I cannot overemphasize how serious this is. If Alistair kills Dean, this time there will be no comebacks."

"I get that Cas."

"Then you need to convince your brother. If he wants to live, he doesn't have a choice in this matter, it's either this or nothing else."

* * *

Dean knew he had to put some distance between himself and Cas and Sam before he eliminated the only family he had left and assassinated his former guardian angel.

What the hell did they expect him to do, just sit back and let someone have access to his mind, his thoughts, and all his fears and feelings?

The only thing that allowed him to keep it together day by day was knowing that most people would never know what went on in his head and all the emotions he kept buried in his heart. Life had robbed him of so many things but he'd be damned if he was going to lose his last vestige of pride.

He walked to the edge of the lake and sat on the grass. Uncharacteristically, he closed his eyes and took several calming breathes hoping the tranquil water would sooth him. Predictably, Sam soon approached and took a seat on the ground beside him.

"OK," Sam said in a voice that sounded like he was somewhere on the continuum between worry and panic. "Usually when we find ourselves in these situations we go a few rounds until someone gives in, but we're not doing that this time. Cas gave us the solution to this problem and we just need to do it."

Dean starred straight ahead at the lake, avoiding eye contact with his brother.

"Easy for you to say Sam you're not the one who has to be on the receiving end of the virtual invasion."

"Dean, it's your life we're talking about here. I saw what that bastard did to you the last time he had a chance. I'm not going to let him get anywhere near you again."

"I'm not exactly looking forward to another dance with Hell's finest, but there must be some other way."

"If there is we don't have time to figure it out. We don't know what kind of timetable Alistair's working with and we need to make a pre-emptive strike."

"Look we've gotten out of some pretty big scrapes before, why should this be any different? I just need some time to figure out what to do."

Exasperated by his brother's stubbornness, Sam went straight to the heart of the matter.

"You really don't trust me do you?"

The statement had Dean instantly turning to face his brother.

"Of course I trust you Sam," he said, his voice a little shaky with emotion. "And you're the only living thing I can honestly say that about."

But Sam wasn't convinced.

"I know you trust me to have your back, you trust me with your life, but you don't trust me with your feelings."

Cornered, Dean's eyes went straight back to the water.

"We are not doing this now Sam. You know you can usually wear me down with your emotional blackmail but not this time, O.K."

"No Dean, it's not OK. How much time have we both spent with the clock ticking down and time running out on you or on me? How much time have we spent watching the days and weeks go by knowing we only have a limited time to be together?

"For one entire year I had to live with the fear of you going to hell. I tried everything to stop it and in the end I had to watch you die. Then I spent four months trying everything I knew to get you back and I couldn't do it. I always fail you when you need me most."

"That's not true!"

"It is! And now here we are again. Hell wants to take you away from me and you expect me to just sit back and let them."

"Sammy, this is my problem, not yours."

"When has one of us ever had a problem that didn't affect the other particularly when we're talking about threats to our lives. Dean, this time it's different. This time I can do something before it's too late; but I'm gonna end up failing you one more time because you can't trust me."

"Don't do this to me Sam."

"Then don't let me have to live with the fear of losing you again."

Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist his little brother, when Sam was pleading like a wounded twelve year old, Dean sighed.

"I understand this is hard for you," Sam said softly. "To let someone into the corners of your mind, it's awkward and creepy. And I know you hate being vulnerable."

Resignation had Dean shaking his head. "This isn't vulnerable Sam," he said quietly. "They have to invent a whole new concept for what this is."

Sensing that Dean's resolve was giving way Sam put his hand on his brother's arm.

"Dean, I promise on my life if you trust me enough to let me do this, I swear I won't violate that trust."

When his vow was met with silence, Sam pressed harder.

"Please let me do this for you."

Dean could literally feel himself crumbling.

"O.K."

"O.K?"

"Yeah O.K. I'll do it. I can't wait to gank that bastard Alistair anyway."

Relief had Sam sighing loudly.

"You won't regret it Dean."

Dean could only shake his head at his brother's naiveté. They were Winchesters; it stood to reason they would both regret it.

* * *

In their motel room, Sam sat on his bed watching his brother sleep. The heavy dose of dream herb had put Dean out almost instantly, but Sam had to wait until his brother was in the deep stages of slumber before taking his own dose of the potion.

Just when he judged it was safe for him to get started Sam was startled by the sudden appearance of Castiel.

"I came to warn you," the angel said standing at the foot of Sam's bed.

"About what?"

"You will face very strong temptations when you journey through your brother's consciousness."

"Temptations Cas? I'm going in to find out how to kill the demon that tortured him, it will hardly be a joyride."

"That's not what I mean. You'll have access to the deepest corners of Dean's mind, the places where he's stored thoughts, experiences and memories he doesn't even want to think about much less share with anyone."

"I'm not just anyone; I'm the closest person in the world to him."

"And even so, there are things that he opted not to tell you, that means he doesn't want you to know."

"Look, we've laid down the boundaries for this little mission; I'm not going to mess with them."

"You think that way now, but once you get in to your brother's mind it won't be that easy."

"Thanks for the warning Cas, but I'll be alright. Dean trusts me to do this, I'm not going to betray that trust."

"I can only hope you'll keep that resolve once you're inside Dean's head."

"I will."

"Sam I would be remiss not to warn you one more time. Just go in, get what you're there for and get out. You may be the closest person in the world to Dean but if he wanted you to know everything about him, he wouldn't have kept secrets."

Afterwards, when Sam was faced with the consequences of betraying his brother, he would regret not heeding Cas' warning.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Behind the Walls

**The Awful Truth **

**A/N: **I have to issue a **warning** because this chapter contains torture scenes. I would not describe them as particularly graphic but they're still worthy of a heads up.

**A/N: **Thanks, as always for all your wonderful feedback. The saga continues...

* * *

**THREE**

**Behind the Walls**

Cas was right, the door was unmistakable.

It loomed imposingly at the end of the last corridor in the deepest corner of the maze that was Dean's mind. Sam approached the imposing entrance with dread rising in his soul. Surprisingly, the door gave way as soon as his hand touched the large brass handle. To Sam, it was almost as if what lay hidden within was impatient to be discovered.

Feeling increasingly daunted by the mission at hand, he stepped forward and was immediately struck by the room's smell. As a seasoned hunter with an unfortunate amount of experience being the prey, he quickly detected blood, sweat and fear. Sam had always had a sixth sense which came sharply into focus when his brother was in trouble. Now, that radar was flaring out of control, signalling that whatever distress Dean was in was beyond his brother's worst nightmare.

A weak, lifeless moan called Sam's attention to the centre of the dimly lit room. Knowing it was Dean, Sam moved cautiously towards the sound, straining his eyes to cope with the dull light.

When he finally saw his brother Sam gasped loudly and broke into a run to get to him. He barely took a few strides before he collided with what felt like a wall although nothing was visible. Caught off guard he stumbled backwards holding his face which had borne most of the impact of the collision. Tentatively, he raised his arms in front of him and took a few slow steps forward. Almost immediately his hands met with what felt like a solid structure. There was an invisible barrier between him and his brother.

Helpless, Sam searched the room for Dean. Shock and horror consumed him when he set eyes on his sibling. The skeletally thin figure suspended from the ceiling could not be his brother.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping that the horrifying image would disappear. But any attempt at denial was almost immediately aborted because one Winchester could recognise another anywhere, regardless of the circumstances.

And these circumstances were shocking beyond measure. Dean was dangling from an iron chain, hands strapped together by the creaking, rusty, metal. His chest was shredded by slashes which seemed to have been administered by a whip with razors. His feet were toeless and the small, jagged stubs that were left clearly signalled they had been roughly sawed off. From Dean's bowed head, Sam could see that all his hair was gone and the bulbous look of the bare flesh made it clear he'd been scalped.

"Dean?" Sam whispered with fearful anticipation.

His brother didn't even budge in acknowledgement.

"Dean."

This time Sam's voice was more desperate; but again the call fell on deaf ears.

Sam was soon distracted by a thin lanky man in full black who approached Dean's near lifeless body.

"You're proving to be quite a challenge," the man said and Sam immediately recognized the breathy voice as belonging to Alistair. "Almost every man I have had the pleasure of treating would have long since acquiesced to my wishes."

Dean's only response was another struggling moan.

"Even for me, who has all the time in the world, it's taking you inordinately too long to break."

Alistair used an iron poll to raised Dean's head eliciting a horrified gasp from Sam who shivered when he saw his brother's face. It was obvious that Alistair had worked Dean over with the steel rod in his hand.

"I've told you before, that this can all stop, if you just agree to take up the assignments I have for you."

"Never," Dean rasped.

Alistair gave a measured sigh.

"I think I'll have to do a bit more to convince you."

"Knock yourself out," Dean dared, coughing and heaving as the words came out.

Sam could have screamed. Even in the face of the wrath of hell, Dean kept up his Winchester defiance. Even when there was nothing to be gained, Dean was still Daddy's little soldier, refusing to show fear.

"As you wish," Alistair said calmly.

First Sam heard the tell tale sounds of metal machinery being adjusted, and then came the creaking sound of rusty wheels.

"In all my years of administering treatment," Alistair informed. "I've never had anyone's resolve outlast these two ministrations. But to prove that I'm not unreasonable, I'll give you one last chance. Will you do what I say?"

"No," Dean could barely say the words but his intent was clear. "Not torturing anyone."

"Dean, I would suggest you take the opportunity to save what's left of your own skin."

"You ... do your own dirty work."

"Very well then."

Fire blazed on the ground just below Dean brightly illuminating his limp, gaunt, body and the area around him. It was then Sam noticed the massive black iron pot underneath his brother's dangling legs. Almost instantly the fire brought the substance in the vessel to boiling point. However, it wasn't until the overheating mixture started to crackle and pop that Sam realised the liquid was oil.

"Let me know if this gets too warm for you Dean."

The words loomed ominously as Alistair manipulated the machinery so Dean was lowered into steaming pot.

When his bare flesh was submerged in the sizzling oil Dean understood the concept of eternal agony. He realised he was fast reaching his breaking point and he couldn't find a reason to hold out any longer. As he had done on countless previous occasions when Alistair had "treated" him, he prayed to die. But as the level of agony intensified he was again struck by the cruel irony that he was already dead.

As the scorching oil burnt his feet to uselessness and began travelling up his calves Dean truly understood what hell meant. Even more painful than the scorching of his flesh was the searing of his pride as he acknowledged that his iron-clad will could not withstand Alistair's cruelty.

At the end of his resistance, Dean screamed for his brother. He knew if anyone would fight off an army of demons and come to his rescue it was Sam. But his cries went unanswered; he was beyond the reach of all salvation.

The sound of his brother's agonizing wails brought Sam to his knees. Helplessness rendered him weak and frustration brought him to gushing tears. Sam covered his eyes and wept in aguish, his own tormented cries almost drowning out Dean's screams. It didn't matter that he knew Dean had survived. It didn't matter that he'd gotten his brother back. There was no changing the fact that the person Sam loved more than his life had suffered indescribably because of his loyalty to Sam.

As Dean's howls grew more frantic Sam covered his ears to block out the haunting sounds. Finally, Dean stopped screaming and started begging for mercy and Sam could hear the despair and hopelessness in his brother's croaking voice.

"Stop," Dean begged Alistair.

It was almost merciful for Sam to hear that, at last, his brother had given in.

Alistair, however, pretended not to hear.

Finally, after agonizing moments of Dean begging and pleading, the demon fiddled with the machinery and Dean was lifted out of the vat.

The entreaties were replaced by a frantic whimpering which, considering his once fearless brother, was even more hurtful for Sam to hear. Even worse was the sound of still sizzling flesh.

Against his better judgement Sam raised his head to look at his brother. The feet that had warmed his own on cold nights when they had cuddled together as little boys had been reduced to blistering stubs. The feet that had kicked soccer balls to him, and even kicked him during numerous brotherly fights, were gone.

Alistair wasted no time contemplating Dean's new deformities. He quickly manipulated the chains, releasing Dean's hands. He sighed with sinister satisfaction when his victim fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

"I figured your resolve couldn't last forever," Alistair breathed, placing one foot on Dean's shredded chest. "That's why I gave you every opportunity to accede. You foolish boy, you let that Winchester pride get the better of you and now you'll pay the price."

"Please," Dean begged. "I'll do whatever you say."

"Yes, but you put me through so much unnecessary stress that I can't let it go without teaching you a lesson. We have forever to be together you and I, and I want to make sure you understand clearly; when I give an order, I don't expect to be disobeyed."

"Please," Dean appealed once again. "Don't hurt me anymore."

Never, in all their lives, no matter how treacherous an enemy they had faced, had Sam ever heard his brother beg like that. No wonder Cas had kept this hidden; Sam knew that his brother could never have lived with the horror of a memory like this.

"I gave you every chance to stop this Dean, but you were foolish enough to think you could outlast me and now, you're going to pay the price. I've always been the kind of man who couldn't start something and not finish it. So I'm honour bound to administer the second stage of this treatment and I'm afraid it's going to be unpleasant."

Alistair reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe.

"You certainly were a formidable patient, Dean Winchester," he stooped beside Dean's half dead body. "So I saved the best for last."

Dean was whimpering now and Sam could smell the mortal fear reeking from his brother.

"It's rear that anyone gets this far in the treatment," Alistair explained reasonably. "The strongest and boldest of them usually start crying like babies and begging for their lives long before we even reach the vat. So anyone who goes beyond it gets an extra special treat. I like to administer this, because there's an element of risk for me and it gives me a thrill. You see in this syringe is the only substance that can destroy me but it's also a substance that provides an exquisite level of agony for you troublesome little mortals. I always get exceptional pleasure when I use it because it might be risky for me, but it will be absolute torture for you."

"Please ... _no_."

"Begging is futile and being demanding is even worse. And since you're now my mindless slave there's little danger in me telling you what's this is. In fact, I love to see the fear in a mortal's eyes when I reveal it. Dean, I'm ecstatic to help you reach the lowest ebb of your so-called humanity. You may think you've experienced hell, but now I'm going to take you to another level. For a hunter like you, the ultimate hell isn't death, or torture, or pain. The ultimate hell is knowing what can kill your worst enemy and being powerless to do anything about it. I bet you're dying to know what's in the syringe so let me end your suspense. It's acid. I'm told it's particularly painful when injected into a human's veins. You'll soon be able to tell me if that little piece of information is actually true."

"NO!"

The tears and terror in his brother's voice was more than Sam could bear. Dean's screams grew so loud and desperate that Sam would have gladly slit his own throat if it meant he didn't have to listen any longer. His heart was pumping so hard, his head felt light and his breath could only come in short, useless gasps.

He got what he came for and now he had to get the hell out before Alistair's administrations reached their pinnacle. He stumbled to his feet, got his footing and bolted from the room. He moved at breakneck speed but his reaction time was still too slow. As he flew through the huge wooden door he could hear his brother screaming and begging, not for his life, but to die. Dean's agonizing howls filled the room and spilled into the corridor chasing Sam as he fled.

Without a doubt Sam knew that the acid was being injected into his brother's veins. Horrified and tormented he slammed the gigantic door behind him but not even that was able to drown out his brother's wails. Sam only managed to take a few steps before he had to stop to try to catch his breath before he keeled over. Even then, the screams pursued him, urging him to run again. But his body refused to move, so he stumbled breathlessly on legs too weak to power to his flight.

Desperate for refuge he pushed open one of the nearby doors and entered the room. Recalling Cas' warning he knew he should have tried to make it down the corridor and out of this house of horrors. But all he really wanted to do was curl up and die because only death could erase the horror of what he had just witnessed.

He would only take a minute, he promised himself. Just enough time to catch his breath and slow down his heart before it burst clean out of his chest. When his legs started to tremble beneath him, he willingly surrendered to gravity's pull and collapsed on the ground. He covered his face with his hands and cried hard hoping the flood of tears would wash the awful images out of his mind. His big brother, who had offered his soul to bring Sam back to life, had been paid back by being subjected to the most dehumanising punishment imaginable.

Sam sobbed uncontrollably for several moments before his conscience began to prod him about opening one of the closed doors. Slowly, he got to his feet meaning to leave the room when his Dean distress detector began firing off. Sam could feel it in his soul, his brother was in trouble.

"Dean?" he whispered, although he figured calling out to his brother would be as futile in this room as it had been in the last.

Still shaking from the previous scene, Sam moved haltingly into the room's interior and quickly discovered it was a motel. As accommodations went it seemed like the standard hunter set-up; bare and non-descript. He noticed immediately there were two beds and the blinds were drawn; but the late afternoon sun was still shining through.

Then, for the second time in quick succession Sam emitted a horrified gasp when he saw his brother.

Dean was seated on one of the motel room beds with his legs crossed and his head bowed. His brother's defeated posture immediately confirmed Sam's initial suspicions; something was wrong with Dean.

On pure instinct, Sam moved to his sibling desperate to comfort him and discover the source of his distress. Again, he ran into an unseen boundary which signalled that, once again, he would be relegated to the role of observer.

Frustrated, he rammed his hand into the invisible wall, earning bruised, sore knuckles for his effort.

"Dean," cried out, undaunted by the futility of his utterance. "Dean, it's me."

The only response was a shuddering sigh, which Sam knew was not directed at him. Then Dean raised his head revealing a tear-stained face and sore, red, nose; tell-tale signs that he had been crying hard.

"Dean," Sam whispered urgently, beating the barrier with his open palm.

Helpless, once again, Sam watched his brother draw a deep breath, a move Sam immediately recognised as Dean trying to strengthen his resolve.

Then, to Sam's surprise Dean sighed loudly, reached in front of him and picked up a handgun. Sam recognised the 9mm pistol that their father had given to Dean when his brother turned 18. That had been John's idea of an ideal gift to mark that milestone.

Sam felt particularly frightened when he saw his brother pick up the gun. There was no threat in the room so there was no reason for Dean to be reaching for his weapon.

Fear snaked up Sam's spine like a cold-footed reptile.

That fear turned to terror as Dean cocked the pistol, put his index finger on the trigger and then brought the gun to his head.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Beyond the Boundaries

**A/N: **Humblest apologies to anyone who was freaked out by the torture scene in the last chapter. Don't worry, it will only be emotional pain from here on out.

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who is following the story and for all the reviews. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

**FOUR**

**Beyond the Boundaries**

Sam couldn't tell which was more horrifying, watching Alistair torturing Dean to the verge of death or watching his brother about to take his own life.

Screaming at Dean to stop he pounded his palm on the transparent wall that formed an impenetrable boundary between them. In the end, it wasn't Sam's hysterics but the shrill ring of Dean's cell phone that halted the potential tragedy.

At first Dean ignored it and took another deep breath, seemingly working up the determination to finish what he had started. When the phone rang out, Sam kept pounding the barrier and screaming at his brother.

Then the phone rang again and this time, Dean paused and dropped the gun and began to sob. The phone rang out for the second time but within a few seconds the shrill buzz started up again.

Sam didn't care who was on the other end of the line, he would be grateful to them for the rest of his life.

Dean felt around on the bed until he found his phone then he snapped the handset open.

"Yes?" he said tiredly.

Again, Dean exhaled loudly.

"Hey Bobby," he sighed. "No. I'm OK. So what, because I sound tired, you assumed that some pretty lady and a really late night are responsible. Come on, dude, I'm past that."

Then Dean snickered.

"I assume there's a purpose for this call."

There was a prolonged silence. Dean closed his eyes, bowed his head then sighed loudly again.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said softly.

He listened for several moments and then said, "Plans? I don't have anything on the agenda. Later I might hit a bar, see if I can get lucky."

Dean was silent while Bobby spoke and then he said.

"Now?" he asked, after listening for several moments. "I'm about an hour and a half from you but I could be there in an hour."

Sam couldn't hear Bobby's response but Dean was quick to reply.

"O.K. I'll take my time. Yeah, I agree, today's not a good day to kill myself in a car wreck so just for you I'll observe the speed limit. So what do you have planned for me when I get there?"

Whatever Bobby said it made Dean close his eyes and sigh with what appeared to be relief.

"Beers and Bobby Springer's Bar-b-que sounds just fine to me. I'm gonna hit the road now. And yeah, I'll obey the speed limit."

Dean laughed at Bobby's response and the amusement sounded genuine. While he continued to listen to Bobby he got up and started stuffing things into his duffle, preparing for his departure. He snickered again and then looked at his watch.

"O.K, Bobby," he quipped sounding decidedly more light-hearted. "It's a little after 4pm; I'll be there before six so fire up the grill." He grinned again.

"And Bobby," Dean's tone grew uncharacteristically sober. "Thanks. O.K. O.K, I'm leaving now."

Dean clicked the button to end the call, then tucked the phone into his pocket and quickly finished packing. The last thing he picked up was his handgun. He examined the pistol for a moment before tossing it into the duffle with the rest of his meagre collection of belongings. With his packing finished he stood, grabbed his bag and walked out of the room.

As soon as Dean was gone, Sam took a seat on the floor. Once again, he needed a few moments to collect himself.

When had his big brother gotten suicidal?

And if things had been so desperate why hadn't Dean called him?

Surely Dean knew that Sam would have dropped everything and come running if he reached out to him for help?

It killed Sam to think of Dean being desperate enough to have reached the point where he not only considered taking his own life but had taken active steps towards that end. Grief stricken, Sam wracked his brain, trying to determine when things gotten so bad. How could Dean have reached such depths of despair and not even think of turning to him?

Then he saw it.

Shinning like a beacon in the darkness, the standard issue motel room clock. As fate would have it, this clock was a little different; it alternated between flashing the time and the date. The time came as no surprised to Sam; Dean had already revealed it in his conversation with Bobby. But the date stopped him cold in his tracks. He blinked several times and even shook his head trying to ensure that the large numbers he was seeing on the digital clock were accurate.

The date was January 24, 2001.

It was Dean's birthday.

It was six months after he'd left for Stanford.

Sam covered his face to stifle his frustrated scream. He'd run away and he hadn't even called Dean on his birthday.

His mind wondered back to the numerous birthdays they had shared before he left home. When Sam had been a little boy he'd always prided himself on being the first person to wish Dean happy birthday every year. He distinctly remembered the year Dean turned eighteen; Sam had insisted that they both stay up until midnight so he could be the first to congratulate Dean on reaching the age of consent. Dean had indulged him and at midnight they had sat on the Impala's hood, sharing a beer, passing the chilly bottle back and forth between them.

Now, guilt sliced Sam's heart as he realised how devastated Dean must have been to reach such a dark place on the day that should have been a happy occasion. Although Sam had left home in the dead of the night with just a tersely worded note, telling Dean and John he had gone to college and neither of them should come after him, deep down Dean must have still believed that Sam would never let his birthday go by unacknowledged.

By then however, Sam had gotten so immersed in his new life and had been so eager to fully embrace normalcy that he had cut off the brother who had been the first and practically the only person to show him unconditional love. The thought of Dean, larger than life and fearless when facing all opponents, being reduced to a suicidal state was too much for Sam to bear.

"I'm sorry Dean," he whispered, tears running down his face. "I never meant to hurt you. Not like this."

But it seemed the worst pain his brother had suffered could all be traced back to him. No wondered Dean hadn't wanted to open up about his secrets. All his anguish had been at Sam's hands. And still Dean was the consummate protective big brother; not wanting Sam to know all the havoc he had wreaked with his selfishness and his disdain for the only real family he ever had.

What else he had been responsible for, Sam wondered.

What else had he done to hurt his brother?

Dean had always been so good at erecting his facade of nonchalance that Sam often thought he didn't have the power to hurt him. Frustrate, yes. Annoy, of course; offend, surely, but drive Dean to the point where his brother had put a gun to his own head and had only been deterred from doing the ghastly deed by a phone call from their surrogate father? No, Sam would never have guessed he had that power.

Now he was left wondering what else he had done to wound Dean emotionally that he was clueless about. His brother was so good at letting the whole world know that no one was capable of hurting him that sometimes he even had Sam fooled.

What other hurts had Dean been hiding behind his infamous emotional walls?

Suddenly Sam had to know if he had done anything more to drive his brother to this kind of despair. If he had, unwittingly or knowingly, no doubt, it was hidden in the confines of one of these rooms. If it was something Dean felt was best hidden and buried then Sam was sure he could find it in this corridor of secrets.

Before rational thinking could prevail Sam walked back out into the hallway and looked around at all the closed doors. If he had done anything else that emotionally damaged his brother, the answer was somewhere in this place. He had to know so he could make it up to Dean. Once he discovered the truth then he would apologize deeply and he would never make the same mistake again.

Sam paced the hallway, looking at what seemed like an endless row of doors, trying to determine which one he should open. Eventually he stopped some distance away from the farthest door and tried one of the handles. Once again, it gave way without any resistance and he took a few steps in. He didn't recognise his surroundings but he moved into the space searching for clues.

He came to an abrupt stop when he saw her. Alexandria Maitland, the love of his life when he was seventeen years old.

Alexandria and her parents had moved into the house beside Bobby's the summer Sam had turned sixteen. For the eight weeks he and Dean had been Bobby's guests, Sam had watched her from a far but could never summon up the courage to ask her out. Alex, as she was affectionately known, and her parents had been regular guests at several of Bobby's famous Bar-b-ques, but Sam had always chickened out when he thought of asking her on a date.

The following year, Sam returned to Bobby's for the summer and took a completely different approach. Buoyed by the confidence only a seventeen year old could have, he had taken the bull by the horns and asked her out. By the end of the summer they were officially an item pledging to remain faithful to one another throughout the school year until they were reunited the following June.

By the next year, however, Sam had a completely different agenda. Yes, he still loved Alex and he was happy to resume their romance but that holiday he had been silently restless while he plotted his escape to Stanford. As he contemplated leaving everything and everyone familiar, Sam knew it would be particularly difficult to part with his girlfriend. In the end, he'd taken the coward's way out; he wrote her a letter, not trusting himself to make it through a face to face goodbye.

Throughout his freshman year at Stanford he spent many nights crying silently into his pillow thinking about the love he had left behind and wishing that things had been different. He comforted himself with the idle daydream that one day, when he'd made something of himself, he would find her, beg for forgiveness and they would be together again. It was a pipe dream, but it got him through some difficult times.

Eventually, he had convinced himself that anything worth having was worth sacrificing for. And since his deepest desire was for a normal life, then he was prepared to make huge sacrifices for that.

Now, seeing her looking just as gorgeous today as she had when they were teenagers, Sam's heartbeat quickened.

My god, she was beautiful.

Her long blond hair fell around her delicate face in thick, golden waves. She wore a simple white silky dress with thin spaghetti straps that criss-crossed down her back. As usual, her makeup was minimal because she didn't need much to accentuate her striking features.

Breathlessly, Sam stared at the woman who had been his first true love. The girl he sometimes thought he had tried to replicate in almost every woman he had seen, even casually, while he was at college. He'd had a serious thing for blonds with flowing hair and innocent eyes.

Then, once the yellow-eyed demon had wreaked havoc in his life, he had trended towards dark haired vixens with evil intentions. Once he'd tasted demon blood and dabbled in exorcisms, he couldn't bear to look into the fair face of an innocent woman. He didn't want to taint them with his touch, or sadly, as was the case with Jessica, condemn them with his love.

Yet even in the face of that conviction, seeing Alex now was like falling back through time. His surroundings felt familiar and when he pulled his eyes away from Alex's face to glance over her shoulder he realised that they were in the cottage that served as a guest house on her parent's five acre property which neighboured Bobby's yard. Alex considered the cottage her refuge and the two of them had spent many special moments in the cosy enclosure.

"It's so good to see you," she said smiling shyly in that compelling way he remembered.

"My god Alex," Sam breathed. "It's good to see you too. You're just as beautiful as I remembered."

She looked away, blushing slightly, apparently summoning the courage to address him again.

"When Bobby told me you were coming, I can't tell you how happy I was that I'd get to see you again."

Sam barely stopped himself from reaching out to pull her into his arms. Breathing hard, fighting for control, he looked away, needing a distraction.

Seemingly oblivious to his struggle, Alex glanced at his and smiled. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you over the last few days, but I think we need to stop ignoring the elephant in the room."

Sam turned his gaze back to her, relieved that she seemed eager to resolve their issues.

"We need to talk about Sam."

Taken by surprise, Sam looked closely at Alex, forcing himself to examine what was actually happening in front of him and not what his desperate eyes wanted to see. Alex wasn't looking at him but past him to someone standing in the distance. Sam turned around to see Dean seated on the overstuffed couch at the other end of the small room.

"What about him?" Dean shrugged.

"You haven't really mentioned him the whole time you've been here; but I get the impression he left you and your Dad as high and dry as he left me."

Dean's facade of nonchalance instantly appeared as if Alex's question had flicked a switch.

"It's O.K. Dean," Alex walked towards the couch and sat beside him. "All I got was a letter telling me that he didn't mean to hurt me but he had to go after his dream. I knew he had been applying to colleges and I knew that he wanted to get out and see the world. I just didn't know he thought he had to leave everything and everyone behind to do it."

"Sam always tended to go to extremes," Dean shrugged again. "It is what it is Alex. He made his choice."

"I know, and I felt really hurt at first about being left behind, but once that passed, I realised it was really for the best. And seeing you again now, I know I was right."

"Right about what?"

"Dean, Sam and I were together but we never... you know."

Sam watched, captivated as Alex looked away from Dean. He realised that she couldn't even bear to say the words much less look Dean in the face. This was the girl Sam had fallen for; pure as snow, innocent as a newborn. He'd been crazy about her beauty but even more dazzled by her purity.

Sam flushed with embarrassment as realised his former girlfriend was about to reveal the intimate details of their relationship to his brother.

"Never?" Dean looked up, surprised. "Not even once?"

Alex still couldn't make eye contact.

"You're kidding right?" Dean snickered disbelievingly.

But the smirk soon morphed into a shocked expression when Alex looked at him with hurt in her eyes.

"Did Sam tell you that we did?"

"No," Dean shook his head. "But you two seemed so into each other that I just assumed."

"Well you assumed wrong Dean. I never did that with Sam, or anyone else."

"So you're ..."

Now she faced him boldly, cutting him off.

"Yes Dean. I am."

"Wow," Dean exhaled loudly. "I didn't think there were any left."

"Well surprise, surprise."

"And Sam was O.K with that?"

"Sam was OK with waiting until the time was right."

"And it never was?"

Alex shook her head silently.

"Wow," Dean repeated, still shocked. "He must have ice running through his veins."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"It is." Dean looked at Alex and shook his head. "Sam's a bigger idiot than I thought."

"Why? Because he respected my wishes and agreed to wait?"

"Yeah," Dean said boldly. "Looking at you, I can't figure out how he managed to do that. He must have had some superhuman powers that he kept secret."

"Sam's always been a gentleman Dean. He waited because it was what I wanted. A girl only has her first time once and I wanted it to count for something."

"And what do you think counts, marriage or some other supposedly lifelong commitment?"

"No." Alex said sincerely. "I told Sam that I wasn't ready but deep down, I knew that wasn't the truth?"

"So what was the truth?"

Alex rose from the couch and turned away from Dean. She paced for a few steps then stopped and ran her hands through her thick fall of hair as she uttered a loud sigh. Then, turning back to face Dean, she looked him dead in the eye.

"I couldn't give myself to Sam because I wasn't in love with him."

"Come again?"

"Don't get me wrong Dean I loved Sam, I really did. But I wasn't crazy, out of my head in love and that's what I wanted to feel more than anything else. I wanted a man who would make me forget all reason and make me think about nothing else but him when he touched me."

"And that wasn't Sam?"

"No," Alex admitted softly. "I know a million girls would probably think I'm an idiot but you can't manufacture desire."

"I have to agree with you there; but if that's what you felt why did you string Sam along?"

Slowly, Alex walked back to the couch and reclaimed her place beside Dean.

"Can I be honest with you Dean?"

"I think that's what you've been doing so far, don't stop now."

"If Sam hadn't gone away I would have broken up with him."

"Not that I'm in any position to break this rather distressing news to Sammy but I will keep that little factoid to myself."

"Dean, I'm being serious."

"I know that. But I don't get where you're going with all of this. Sam's a jerk but I'm not interested in hearing how or why he struck out."

"He struck out because I could never go through with it. I couldn't give myself to Sam because I was in love with you."

_"Me?"_ Dean's shock was evident.

"Yes." Alex said desperately. "But you never gave me even so much as a second glance. You always treated me like I was a little girl."

"Because you were. Not to mention that you were my brother's girl."

"I know I was with Sam and I that's why I wasn't even honest with myself about how I felt about you. But you'd saunter by in that damn leather jacket and throw a careless wink my way and my heart would race. Whenever you bothered to say two words to me, usually just to tease me or to annoy Sam, I'd feel so thrilled that you even noticed me much less spoke to me. You always had this look in your eye that made me giddy and your nonchalance and indifference just made me want to run into your arms."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this." Dean shot up from the couch, putting some distance between himself and Alex and her sudden revelations. "Alex, this is crazy."

Again, Alex got to her feet and walked towards him.

"I know it's crazy Dean," she confessed. "And god help me if this makes me a horrible person, but half the time I was with your brother I just wanted you."

"Alex, come on. I know you're upset that Sammy took off, but this is hardly the way to deal with it."

"No Dean. I'm not upset with Sam. And I don't have anything to feel guilty about anymore, he's the one who left. All that means is that when he weighed his options he decided he could manage without me in his life. So now I don't have to hide my true feelings anymore."

Watching the unbelievable drama Sam's knees were again threatening to give out.

The first woman he'd fallen in love with, the one who had set the standard for all who came after, had secretly been in love with his brother.

All those times she had asked him to be patient and said she just wasn't ready she'd secretly wanted to be with Dean instead?

How the hell was he to process any of this as a man or even as a brother.

The only reason Sam had been willing to wait was because he'd truly loved her and assumed she felt the same. He'd been patient and understanding, putting his own needs aside because he wasn't prepared to take anything she wasn't ready to give. And for all that, she'd been secretly plotting how to get her hands on Dean?

For his part, Dean wasn't handling Alex's confession any better. It was true; he'd always seen her as a little girl and for obvious reasons he'd never considered her a prospect. Besides, there had always been a naivety about her that had turned him off but he figured that had appealed to his goodie-two-shoes little brother. As close as they were he and Sam had never traded stories or had locker-room conversations about their pursuits or conquests. And while Alex always struck him as being a little too precious, he figured Sam had his ways of getting around the prim and proper exterior; after all, he was a Winchester.

At any rate, all of that had been Sam's issue and of absolutely no concern to Dean. So how he came to be standing here in Alex's little hideaway, with her in a flimsy dress, looking decidedly alluring, confessing her love and secret desire, he wasn't sure.

"Alex," Dean was perplexed and his voice reflected it. "What do you want from me?"

Determinedly, Alex walked towards him and placed her delicate hands on his shoulders.

"I want you Dean," she said, her voice was trembling but she didn't flinch. "I've always wanted you."

"Look," Dean reasoned. "If you're doing this to get back at Sam then it's not worth it."

"Dean, don't you get it? I'm not mad at Sam. If anything I should thank him. When he left, he spared me the turmoil of having to hurt him; he made the decision for both of us. And if I learned anything from all this it's that you should always follow your heart. Sam followed his, now I'm following mine."

"Alex, I think I should warn you. I can't make any promises."

"I know Dean. And I'm not asking for any. I just want excitement. I want to lose my mind when I give myself. I want this to be something I'll never forget."

Sam knew, from his own powerful attraction to Alex that only a fool could walk away from an offer like that. But Dean was different from other men, Dean was his big brother and he knew Dean would never betray him, not on a matter of the heart. Even with Dean's notorious weakness for women, there were some lines you just didn't cross.

"Well that's one thing I can promise," Dean said softly. "If this is really what you want, I'll ensure that it's an unforgettable experience."

Alex moved first. She brought her hands to Dean's face and softly caressed his cheek.

Sam could only stare open-mouthed and horrified while Dean pulled Alex into his arms. She willingly surrendered kissing his brother with a hunger he couldn't ever remember her exhibiting in intimate encounters with him. Dean wasted no time picking Alex up and carrying her towards the bedroom. During the short journey, their lips never parted.

They disappeared through the open door and then a resounding thud reverberated as Dean kicked it shut.

The loud sound may as well have been a gunshot, straight to Sam's chest, because it shattered his heart.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Beneath the Mask

**A/N: **A few of my reviewers requested that I update faster, so I'm trying to step up the pace. Enjoy.

* * *

**FIVE**

**Beneath the Mask**

If there hadn't been an unbreakable barrier between him and his brother Sam knew he would have killed Dean.

When the door closed, leaving him alone while his sibling proceeded to gain intimate knowledge of Sam's former girlfriend, an uncontrollable rage welled-up in Sam's heart. Dean had been making him angry since the day Sam understood the meaning of the word; but this time, he was enraged enough to murder his brother with his bare hands.

The sneaky, conniving bastard had betrayed him in the deepest way possible. After everything Alex had meant to him, after all the love and patience he had shown her, it was Dean who she had given herself to. And his brother, the backstabbing betrayer, had willingly taken all Alex had offered.

No wonder Dean was so damn cagey about all his secrets.

He had so many devious and underhanded things to hide, that it was now clear why he had been adamant that he didn't want Sam running around in his head.

And to think that Sam had fallen for the whole best big brother in the world act. He had truly believed that Dean loved him more than anything and would protect him no matter what. But behind his back Dean had belittled his manhood in a way that Sam would neither be able to forgive nor forget. The joke was on him and for more than ten years he hadn't even known it.

Enraged to the point of confusion Sam stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

What else had that snake in the grass been hiding from him?

What other devious and deviant deeds were concealed behind these doors?

If Dean had betrayed him so deeply with Alex how else had he hurt him?

The promise to observe Dean's boundaries, not to mention Cas' warning, took a back seat to Sam's overwhelming anger. With rage blinding his eyes he kicked in the first door in sight. God help him, he would dig up all of Dean's dirty secrets and his brother would be made to pay for every last sin as soon as this nightmare was over.

Striding angrily into the room Sam found himself starring at a teenaged Dean whose fury mirrored his own. He was squaring off angrily with John who appeared to be fighting to keep a check on his own temper.

"Dean," John cautioned. "We're not going over this again. You have to stay with your brother."

"But Dad you said I could go camping with the guys. We've been planning this for two weeks."

"I know I gave you permission but this hunt came up suddenly and I have to go."

"No, you don't **have** to go," Dean pointed out stubbornly. "You **choose** to go. The same way you can choose not to go and just let me enjoy this time with the guys like we've been planning."

"Dean your brother cannot stay alone. He's only ten. You're the older one you need to be responsible."

"No **you** need to be responsible," Dean insisted. "You're his father."

"I am well aware of what my role is Dean but it seems you need to be reminded. I am a hunter, young man and so are you. We make sacrifices because people's lives depend on it. And if that means that you can't go camping because you have to take care of your brother then so what? Would you rather people died so you and your friends can cook hotdogs and roast nuts over a fire?"

Dean glared silently in response.

"Well...would you?" John demanded in the face of the wordless defiance.

"I never get to do anything I like," Dean complained. "I never get to have any fun."

"The world doesn't revolve around you Dean."

"You're right about that. For you it revolves around hunting and for me it revolves around Sam."

"That's because he's your little brother."

"But you're making him my son," Dean complained. "I'm only thirteen Dad and I don't get to play sports, I don't get to stay in one school and I don't get to have any friends. If I go on like this I'm gonna grow up and all I'll know how to do is hunt and babysit."

"So now hunting isn't good enough for you?" John dared his son to make the admission.

Fatigue and despair had Dean backing down.

"I never said hunting was bad Dad. But why can't I have more? Why is everything about tracking down every evil thing that lives? Why can't we have a home, why can't we have neighbours, why can't Sam and I go to the same school every day like the rest of the kids our age?"

"I've told you why Dean," John fell back on his catch phrase. "If we don't deal with evil no one will."

Dean didn't know if he should cry or scream. John sensed he had his oldest on the back foot and moved in for the kill.

"Think of all the families that will have to suffer the way we did."

"But it's like we're still suffering Dad," Dean said dejectedly. "We don't have a home; we don't really have anything or anyone except each other."

"And believe me Dean, that's enough."

Dean steeled himself to take a last stand.

"It's not enough for me."

"Excuse me?"

"I want a real family Dad," Dean dared to voice his deeply cherished secret desire. "I want a home and I want to be normal."

"Dean," John tried to apprehend his son but the floodgates had opened.

"I want to do stuff that other kids my age do Dad," Dean appealed tearfully. "I wanna be a big brother to Sam and tease him and teach him how to kiss a girl; I don't want to be his stand-in father. Dad, I don't want this life."

John looked angry enough to commit murder.

"Get one thing straight Dean, this life is the only one you have. So if I were you I'd forget about the white picket fence, the summer bar-b-ques and the home in the suburbs, because that is not what you're being raised for. You are being trained to be a soldier, to deal with all the wicked forces that infect the world and cause other people grief and pain just like they've caused us. You talk about our lives being so horrible and it all goes back to the thing that killed your mother. Do you want other families to go through what we went through?"

Dean kept silent; it wouldn't pay to argue anymore.

"I asked you a question; do you want other families to suffer like that?"

"No."

"No who?"

"No sir."

"You talk about caring for your little brother like it's some kind of burden; because you don't get to do juvenile things like play ball and go camping, why don't you think about what's best for Sam instead of what you want?"

These questions were rhetorical and Dean knew it.

"Sammy worships you Dean, he does nothing but try to get your attention and you're making it sound like taking care of him is depriving you of a life. I thought you loved your little brother."

"I do love him," Dean insisted.

"Well love doesn't put a stupid camping trip ahead of your brother's safety and wellbeing."

Dean sighed to stifle tears. He wasn't going to win this one.

"I'll call the guys and tell them I won't be able to make it."

"Thank you," John said sardonically. "I'll be hitting the road in about half hour. I'll be back in few days when the hunt is done."

"Yes sir."

Once John had left the room, Dean dropped down onto one of the beds and began crying openly.

Seeing his brother so emotionally broken rendered Sam speechless with grief. He had never been able to tolerate seeing Dean in any form of distress and the fact that his brother was practically bawling with abandon meant he was deeply hurt by what had transpired.

The conversation between his father and Dean was also a source of pain for Sam. Dean, who vehemently denounced anything that would force him to conform to societal norms, had actually wanted a regular life and a regular family. His brother, who openly scorned normality, had wanted a home he could come back to everyday, a regular school, friends and a sense of community.

However, most disturbing all of was that the big brother who mothered and fathered him had considered the responsibility a burden. Dean had always insisted that the fact that John had more or less pawned Sam off on him was never a problem. He'd repeatedly told Sam that being a surrogate parent was a role he gladly embraced because he loved his little brother so much.

Dean had talked a good game, but now here it was, right before Sam's eyes; his big brother had wanted to be just that, a big brother. Not a guardian, not a parent but just a brother who could have his own life and leave the constant responsibility of raising a young child to their remaining parent. John however would have none of it and Dean had been made to feel that wanting his freedom was inconsiderate and selfish.

Sam recalled an exceedingly difficult conversation he'd had with Dean just before they had been reunited with their father, when Meg was hot on their trail. Dean had been devastated that Sam had wanted to leave him and go back to school as soon as the Yellow Eyed Demon had been caught. He'd asked Dean, with even a hint of disdain if there was anything he wanted for himself and his life. After all, his brother had to have some goals and ambitions besides looking for the next hunt. Dean had looked at him with hurt in his eyes as if he had been the victim of a particularly painful betrayal. It was little wonder he couldn't think beyond his family and the next evil thing he had to kill. John had taught him that it didn't pay to concern himself about anything else.

Now, Sam was the one who was feeling betrayed. Although he occasionally gave Dean a hard time about his over protectiveness, deep down it thrilled Sam to think that he was that special to someone. But now he felt like the devotion he had always treasured was born, not of the deepest, purest, brotherly love, but from orders issued by a commanding officer.

In recent years Sam had not reflected much on his childhood or found time to lament his upbringing. Now, however, he was again struck by the sadness of it all. Dean had been made to feel that his own needs should come second and that's what ultimately led to his brother being condemned to hell. How different things could have been for both of them if only John hadn't decided that ridding the world of evil was the Winchester's responsibility.

Sam was rooted out of his own thoughts when Bobby entered the room and caught Dean crying. In typical Dean Winchester fashion, he tried to dry his eyes as if that would fool Bobby.

"I heard the fireworks between you and your Dad," Bobby said gently, taking a seat on the bed across from Dean.

"Did Sammy hear?" Dean glanced around furtively as if he expected his brother to appear.

"No. Sammy's out in the yard somewhere. You don't have to worry."

Relieved, Dean sighed, then used his T-shirt to wipe his eyes and nose to remove the evidence of his mini meltdown.

"John giving you a hard time about the camping trip huh?" Bobby coaxed.

"It's no big deal," Dean lied, even though the sniffing that punctuated the words was a dead giveaway. "We have more important things to do."

Sam could literally see the soldier coming to the fore, squashing the desires of the needy child.

"Dean, you're just a kid, it's OK to want to do fun stuff with your friends instead of fighting off every god awful thing that threatens mankind. You don't need to feel badly about that son."

"Is it bad Bobby, to just want a chance to be a regular kid? I know we lost Mom but why can't Dad, Sam and I be a family? Why do we have to live like this?"

"I know it's hard for you Son but your Dad really does love you and Sam. He's just got an obsession that doesn't allow him to think about anything else."

"Yeah, whatever it was that killed Mom may as well have killed all of us."

"Now you listen to me," Bobby took Dean by his shoulders so he could look into his eyes. "Don't you ever say that again. You, your Dad and Sam are survivors and no matter what, you have to keep on going. As long as you're alive you're one step ahead of the bastards."

"I suppose," Dean said unconvincingly.

"Dean, about your brother."

"What about him?"

"I know sometimes it can seem a little unfair that you always have to take care of him. But you can give him something that your Dad isn't always able to."

"What's that?"

"Love, Dean. You can give him love."

Sam's heart was hopeful for the first time since he'd embarked on his treacherous mission. The hope soon fizzled as he wondered why what appeared to be a special moment between Dean and Bobby was buried in the same place as that hurtful confrontation between Dean and John.

The mystery was soon solved.

"Bobby," Dean whispered looking sheepishly at their surrogate father. "Can I tell you something I've never told anyone else?"

"Of course Son."

"I don't always love Sammy."

"Well of course you don't Dean. He's your little brother, he's bound to get on your nerves and drive you crazy."

"That's not what I mean," Dean explained softly, with his head bowed in shame. "I mean that sometimes I wish that it was still just me, Mom and Dad. I remember I was so happy. I had a home and a mother and father. Then Sammy was born and Mom was dead and nothing was ever the same after that. Sometimes I wish I could go back to the time before Sammy came. I was happy Bobby and so was Dad. Now, it seems like we'll never be happy again."

"Oh kid," it was obvious Bobby's heart was melting.

"Bobby, I'm sorry for being mean and selfish but it's like since I became a big brother I've never had a chance to be a kid again."

Bobby quickly pulled Dean into a hug as he began sobbing again.

"It's O.K. son," Bobby whispered, holding Dean tight. "It's O.K."

"Please don't tell Sammy," Dean begged in tears. "Please don't tell him what I said."

"I won't Dean," Bobby assured. "This will be our secret. I promise you I won't tell anyone."

Horror, grief and disappointment overwhelmed Sam as he watched the tragic scene unfold. His most fearful suspicions had now been confirmed. His brother had been made to sacrifice his life for him over and over again. And only once had Dean ever had the courage to admit he resented it.

Maybe this was why Bobby's bond with Dean had always seemed to run that much deeper than the one he shared with Sam. Not only did he know exactly what Dean had given up for the inflated title of big brother, he knew how Dean really felt about it.

This time Sam didn't wait for the scene to finish before he walked out of the room. Whatever words passed between Dean and Bobby after the initial confession, he didn't want to hear it. He'd had enough of his brother's lies and betrayal.

Little did he know the worst was yet to come.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. The Last Fortification

**SIX**

**The Last Fortification **

Once he was out in the corridor Sam abandoned all restraint. A frightening mixture of anger and confusion had him pacing the hallway like a caged, confused animal. Dean had lied to him, betrayed him and kept secrets from him. But the worst part was that his big brother had concealed parts of himself that were fundamental to who Dean was. How could his sibling claim that Sam was the closest person in the world to him and yet he had kept so much hidden from him?

Sam may have had his own share of secrets but fundamentally, Dean knew who he was. Even though they had been raised to be fearless hunters with an unbreakable exterior he'd always been able to be vulnerable with Dean. However, now it was clear that Dean didn't feel the same way. And now, Sam was left with the disconcerting feeling that the person who he'd always regarded as the other part of his soul was a stranger. The man who he had been raised with, lived with and ultimately died for now seemed so unfamiliar to him.

With the questions and doubts raging in his head, Sam no longer felt any reverence or respect for the line of closed doors that stretched out around him. They were walls that concealed his brother from him and barriers that ensured he'd only seen half the man that Dean was. Suddenly, he couldn't care less about observing the boundaries.

Literally daring fate to do its worst, Sam walked to the end of the corridor, approaching the door closest to last one. Before he could reconsider, he entered the room and quickly realised he was back in Alistair's torture chamber.

In spite of his bold entry, Sam felt his stomach contract with horrified anticipation. At the centre of the room stood Dean and Alistair, the demon's stance indicating he was delivering a lecture.

"I must say Dean, you've impressed me with the zeal with which you've been carrying out your tasks," Alistair's voice was dripping with false appreciation.

Dean didn't respond; but Sam recognized the angry, defiant expression and knew his brother wanted to rip his tormentor apart.

"I've had countless students but none who have taken to the work as quickly as you. You've brought a brand of creativity to the table that has been impressive to say the very least."

"Just give me my instructions and skip the damn lecture," Dean growled softly.

"Now listen to that. And here I was thinking you would respond well to positive re-enforcement."

"You expect me to be happy that you've made me into a sadist just like you."

"Now, now Dean; you might want to watch that tone. Remember, all I have to do is say the word and you'll go from being my star pupil to being my favourite victim."

After years of knowing Dean and studying his every expression Sam could see the despair written across his brother's face. Dean was clearly past the point of putting up any resistance.

"Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Good," Alistair said calmly. "I have, what I am sure will be a most fulfilling assignment."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth two hulking men, dressed in full black entered, hauling what was obviously a hesitant soul with them. A mask covered the person's face but Sam could tell that it was a woman's form.

"I think this is going to be a most exciting experience for you Dean," Alistair said with relish.

Sam knew it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

He had already seen Alistair in action and knew he couldn't stomach any further exposure to the demon's sadistic play. Even worse, he couldn't stand to see his brother so broken and resigned or to watch Dean have to inflict that level of agony on anyone, even a soul condemned to hell.

Meaning to flee, Sam only managed to take a few steps when his brother's loud protests echoed across the chamber, stopping him in mid stride.

"No," Dean shouted. "I **won't** do it."

"You say that now," Alistair remained eerily calm. "But you know the alternative; so you work on her, or I'll work on you."

Then the screaming started as Dean's would be victim hysterically registered her objections.

Sam's knees practically buckled when he heard the chilling sound.

He'd know that voice anywhere.

It was the one that used to warm his heart but now it haunted his dreams.

Moving with hesitant steps towards to the small group, Sam prayed that his ears, and now his eyes, were deceiving him.

No such luck.

It was her.

_**"Jess!"**_Sam screamed, as he came undone. "God no. Please no!"

"I'm not going to hurt her," Dean was insisting.

"I have no problem with that Dean," Alistair's voice affected concession. "It simply means it's back to rack for you."

"No," Dean shrieked, obviously horrified.

"No, not the rack? Then perhaps we should do the vat again; you seemed to have enjoyed it so thoroughly last time."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, struggling not to break down and weep. He had tried so hard to resist getting to this point, but he was now beyond his ability to endure. And what did it matter if he held out against Alistair's demands, who would even care? There was no more father to please or little brother to impress.

It really didn't matter if he did the unthinkable. If he subjected souls to the unimaginable pain who would know? Who would be disappointed in him? Who would feel let down? He had nothing left to prove and no one left to live for.

Through tear-filled eyes Sam watched his brother surrender the last vestiges of his humanity.

"I'm sorry Jessica," Dean whispered. "But I can't take anymore."

Now Sam knew he had to leave; and he would probably have managed to escape if Jessica hadn't disintegrated into frightful hysterics. But once she started shrilling frantic appeals to Dean he was became immobilised by terror.

"Dean please," Jessica begged desperately. "I loved your brother. For Sam's sake I'm begging you, don't do this."

There was no doubt that Dean was truly regretful, but he was beaten, broken and frantic to end his own suffering.

"I'm sorry Jess," shame and humiliation laced Dean's voice. "But I have no choice."

Screaming, Jessica strained and struggled against her captors; but the bulky demons remained unperturbed by her efforts.

"Dean," Alistair said appreciatively. "You will find it's particularly pleasurable to treat an overly reluctant patient. You'll know the measure of your effectiveness when in spite of severe pain they become too impaired to even beg for mercy."

"Alistair," Dean made one last stand. "Don't make me do this."

"But you know the rules Dean, it's her or you. The decision is yours."

Whimpering with fright Jessica appealed again.

"Dean, please. I won't be able to bear it. I'll do anything, just please don't hurt me."

"I'm sorry Jess," was all Dean could manage to say. "I'm truly sorry."

Realising that Dean intended to carryout Alistair's orders, Jessica's quickly turned to accusations and condemnation.

"Is this how you get your revenge?" she demanded. "By picking on a woman who can't fight back?"

"Of course it is," Alistair supplied helpfully. "Did you expect forgiveness and reconciliation in hell?"

"Revenge for what?" Dean wanted to know.

"You know what," Jessica's fury blazed. "You always hated me because Sam chose to be with me instead of you. He left you and your father behind, he wanted a new life and we were going to have our own family."

"Don't bring Sam into this Jessica. Don't even mention his name in this place; this has nothing to do with him."

"Don't listen to him my dear," Alistair interjected. "With the Winchester Boys it always comes back to how something affects the relationship between them."

His line or argument seemed to work because despite his obvious role as instigator, Jessica reserved her interrogation for Dean.

"I know this is about Sam Dean. I know you feel I took him away from you and John."

"No!"

"Then why else would you do this?" Jessica's voice grew soft as she pleaded. "Why would you hurt me when I can't fight back?"

It had been more than 30 years and yet Dean was still surprised at the depths a soul could reach in hell.

"Jess," Dean whispered. "Forgive me."

"Very well then," Alistair said proudly. "Let the work begin."

Sam's legs were nearing paralysis but he found the strength to run.

He was done opening doors; he was finished unearthing secrets. Whatever else lay hidden in his brother's mind would have to stay buried. He couldn't stand to be in this house of horrors for one more minute.

Once he made it back into the hallway Sam ran for dear life; knowing he had to leave before he lost his sanity. Sprinting away from the mayhem he ran straight into Cas. The angel seemed to loom over him with anger and disapproval blazing in his eyes.

"What have you done?" The angel demanded.

"I need to get out of here." Sam heaved, trying desperately to catch his breath and steady his head.

"You did it didn't you? You opened other doors. You ignored my warning."

"Yes, I ignored your damn warning."

"Why?"

"Because Dean's my brother; I have a right to know what he's been through."

"Sam I told you if you did that it would alter your relationship with Dean forever."

"So many secrets Cas," Sam gasped, leaning against a wall to support himself. "So many lies. It's like I don't know who he is."

"This is not about you Sam. While you've been here betraying your brother's trust..."

"I'm the one who's been betrayed Cas. I don't give a damn about losing Dean's trust now that I've seen everything he's kept from me."

"Well while you've been detained here Alistair could have easily gotten to him and he doesn't have what he needs to be able to defend himself."

"I know the secret Cas. I know how to kill Alistair."

"Then I'd suggest you get back to your brother before it's too late."

Concerned that Sam might make other ill advised stops, Cas escorted him out. They made their retreat in complete silence with Cas eager to ensure that Sam returned to Dean and Sam eager to escape the depths of his brother's clandestine mind.

Tormented and confused, Sam made his way from the dark corridors of secrets to the brighter front areas of the mansion-sized structure. As they neared the exit, suddenly the building started to shake. Sam stopped instantly and looked expectantly at Cas.

"What the hell is going on?"

A troubled expression came over Cas' grim features as he looked up at the ceiling then down to the ground. The vibrations grew stronger forcing Sam to back up against a wall to brace himself.

"It's Alistair." Cas announced gravely. "He must have gotten to Dean."

"Oh hell," Sam shook his head tiredly. He'd had enough calamities to last a lifetime; his ability to respond was diminishing with each passing second. "I want out of his nightmare. I can't take anymore."

"Sam, focus," Cas chided. "We're talking about Dean's life."

"Which Dean, Cas?" Sam had to ask. "The real one or the one I thought I knew."

The structure shook again, sending Sam crashing from one side of the hallway to the next.

"We don't have time for this discussion. You've got to get back and save your brother."

"With what?" Sam demanded. "Where am I supposed to find acid now?"

"That's why I said you shouldn't linger in here Sam. I told you to just get in and out. Now Dean is in real danger. I can feel it."

Sam looked around frantic and helpless, hoping the solution would appear out of midair.

Then it clicked.

"I know where I can get acid Cas, but I'll need your help."

"Where?"

"Back there, in Alistair's torture chamber. He was using it on Dean when he told him that was the only thing that could kill him. I can't get to it because everything in here is behind some kind of invisible barrier."

"Yes, Sam. It's a line you can't cross. You're not even supposed to be in here let alone interact with the elements."

"That may apply to me Cas, but not to you. You need to find a way to get through that blockade and get me the acid. I need to have it in my hand when I wake up so I can use it to stop Alistair once and for all."

"You think it's that simple to cross these boundaries?"

"Well do you have a better idea because I'm fresh out?"

"Sam, we don't even know if that will work."

"Well make it work!" Sam said heatedly. "You owe Dean that much."

"Is that your guilt talking, because you broke your agreement with him and violated his trust in the worst way possible?"

"If anyone should feel guilty in all of this Cas, it's Dean. Now you get me that damned acid because I'm coming out of this sick dream and I'm going to kill Alistair. That bastard is not getting his hands on my brother ever again."

"Sam..."

"Cas just get me that acid so I can deal with Alistair. And then, so help me God, I'll deal with Dean."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	7. Over the Limit

**A/N: **I am sorry this update was so long in coming. I hope it's worth the wait.

* * *

**SEVEN**

**Over the Limit**

Sam and Dean jolted upright in unison; crashing out of their drug induced slumber in synchronicity. When Sam looked over and saw his brother, alive, whole and uninjured relief overwhelmed him. Anger took a backseat, and resentment was similarly relegated because whatever had happened in the past, Dean was alive and well and sitting right next to him. His brother had survived Alistair's unspeakable abuse.

Before he even thought about it, Sam swung his legs over the side of his bed to face his sibling.

"Dean!" he gasped unbelievably thankful to not see scorched limbs and slashed skin.

"You OK?" Dean asked, relieved to see that Sam appeared to have made it in and out in one piece.

"Yeah," Sam said quickly.

"Did you get it?" Dean asked then added, "Whatever it is."

"Yeah," Sam nodded vigorously. "I know what can take Alistair out. It's acid." As he said the words Sam looked down at his right hand where he clutched a sealed vial. "And I have some right here."

"How?" Dean wondered.

"I had some help from Cas," Sam admitted, feeling the heat rise in his face at the thought of some of the other aspects of his conversation with the angel.

"But we can't wait around Dean, Alistair's coming now."

"Now? How'd you know that?"

"Cas warned me on my way out. Alistair will be here any second. We need to be ready."

Following his brother's earlier movements, Dean swung his feet to the side of his bed and then got up.

"Give me that," he held out his hand for the vial.

"No." Sam moved it out of his grasp.

"Sam you said we don't have any time. Give it to me."

"No." Sam repeated shaking his head stubbornly. "I saw what that bastard did to you Dean. He's mine."

There were times when Dean knew he could dissuade his brother; this wasn't one of them.

"O.K," Dean conceded. "So what's the plan then?"

"I need to get close enough to throw it at him."

"Then surprise is our best bet."

"How?"

"Get in the closet. I'll find a way to get his back to you. Then when I give the signal, you come out and you'd better hit your target because you're only going to get one chance."

"OK," Sam looked around hurriedly, knowing time was running out. "Sounds like a plan. What's the signal?"

"When I tell him to go to hell, you come out swinging champ. Got that?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded and quickly took up his position.

Dean stood up and looked around the room, determined to be ready for the entrance of his most fearsome adversary. He didn't wait long before he felt the freezing cold air fill the room and heard the voice that was more chilling than the temperature.

"Hello Dean," Alistair greeted in his breathy, deliberate tone. "It's been too long."

Although fear gripped his heart, Dean stared unflinchingly at his tormentor.

"Not long enough," he said calmly.

"We have matters to settle."

"Oh really. Like what?"

"Like your state of existence."

"I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one. I want me alive, you want me dead there's very little chance we'll find common ground."

"That's where you're mistaken. I've figured out a way for both objectives to be achieved."

"You'll forgive me if I'm not interested."

"If I were you I would be. Your father is dead and Castiel was never a match for me so who's going to save you this time."

Without even realising it, Dean's eyes looked pointedly at the empty bed that had previously been occupied by his brother.

"Sam?" Alistair asked disbelievingly. "Knowing what he knows now he's likely to be the one to end your miserable life."

Curiosity had Dean's pulse quickening but he'd be damned if he'd let Alistair know.

"So is your brilliant plan to bore me to death with one of your lectures?"

"Stop trying to act like you didn't hear what I said Dean. I know you're dying to find out what I mean."

"Not really," Dean lied.

Unperturbed by Dean's nonchalance, Alistair continued his taunt.

"You really thought that Sam would be able to just walk into your mind and walk out without stopping to look around?"

"I don't expect you to understand this but when my brother gives his word, he keeps it."

"Your blind faith is touching but once he got into your head, your little brother's promise was like a snowball in hell."

"You're lying."

"Do you really think so? After all the times Sam wailed to you about you not confiding in him, do you think he would really resist a opportunity like the one you handed him on silver platter?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer. What's between me and Sam will never have anything to do with you."

"He knows Dean," Alistair said plainly. And the confidence in his voice coupled with the coldness of his stare terrified Dean's heart.

"Knows what?"

"Where shall I begin? He knows that you're not the man you've always pretended to be. He knows his fearless, over protective brother, who professed to have an all consuming love for him is nothing but a fake."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean couldn't resist asking the question, although he feared the answer.

"He knows that you slept with his very first love. Now can you imagine little Sammy's distress when he found out that after he had been such a good little boy and waited patiently for the lovely Alexandria, his bad big brother was the one to pluck the fruit. Can you imagine his sense of anger and betrayal?"

"You're lying."

"You'll wish I was, especially when you find out that Sam also knows what you did to his precious Jessica."

"No!"

"Yes. Little brother is now well aware that even though that poor, sweet girl begged you not to hurt her, you tortured her until she prayed to die. Now Dean, you know your little brother better than anyone, can you imagine the devastation poor ole Sammy felt when he found out what you had done to both his girls? In his whole life, he's only really been in love with two women and now he knows that his precious big brother slept with the first and damn near killed the last."

Dean glared menacingly at Alistair but his anger only seemed to spur the demon on.

"And it gets even better believe it or not," Alistair continued.

"I really don't want to hear anymore of the filth that's coming out of your mouth."

"That's not surprising," Alistair reasoned. "The truth always hurts; but unfortunately for you, there's more to tell."

"Well I know lying is your native language so you can't help yourself."

"You really think once Sam saw what you'd been up to behind closed doors he would just take one look and leave. No, the more he saw the more he had to see. And you know what the reward was for his curiosity? Devastation, bitterness and betrayal."

"You're twisting everything," Dean yelled.

"No Dean," Alistair remained composed. "You did the twisting. You tried to convince your little brother you were something that you're not. But now he knows you for the fraud you are. He knows that the myth of the over protective, all adoring big brother is just that; a myth."

"I'll kill you," Dean warned softly.

"Oh not now Dean, I'm just getting to the exciting part," Alistair snickered. "Sam also saw you griping to your father about being burdened with babysitting duties and wanting to have a regular childhood like all the other children around you."

Dean couldn't believe it. He'd never told Sam his deeply harboured secret of wanting a normal life. In fact, he'd given his little brother a hard time whenever Sam voiced any such desire.

"And while we're on the topic of revelations, I think you should know that Sam saw you bawling on Bobby like a stray dog who'd just been kicked and saying you wished he had never been born."

"What?" Dean didn't know how much more of this he could stand.

"He heard you telling Bobby that before he came along you had the perfect life and the perfect family. He knows now that you lied every time you said you never - not for one minute - regretted that you had a little brother even though his birth killed your mother and all but killed your father. Every time his beloved big brother looked into his eyes and told him none of that mattered, it was a lie."

"You sick, bastard," Dean growled. "No one comes between me and my brother and lives."

"Funny you should mention life and death. I think it's only fair that you know Sam saw you alone and abandoned, crying like a pathetic school girl with a gun to your head ready to end your life because you thought no one loved you."

Not even for Alistair's benefit could Dean stifle his horrified gasp.

Sensing his prey was faltering, Alistair stepped up the assault.

"And now that Sam finally understands that his big brother is only a persona that you invented because you didn't want anyone to see you for the pitiful human being you actually are, I'm sure he wishes that you'd actually pulled the trigger."

Pushed past the limit by Alistair's shaming litany, murder was the only thing on Dean's mind.

"Go to hell," he shouted, springing to his feet and charging Alistair as an uncontrollable rage took him.

Forgetting his predetermined code with Sam, launched himself at the demon, pushing him backwards and tackling him to the floor. They fell against the closed closet door, disrupting Sam's exit as he jumped out to position himself to deliver the fatal dose of acid.

Sam stumbled over the tangle of bodies at his feet, sending the bottle of acid sailing across the room. Oblivious of his brother's thwarted intervention, Dean assumed the advantage over Alistair, used his full body weight to pin the demon down and then grabbed his neck with both hands. Dean's turn having the upper hand was cut painfully short as Alistair threw him off, tossing him like rag doll across the room and into a wall.

Frantically, Sam looked around, desperate to find the missing vial. He spotted the small bottle discarded in a corner and sprinted for it. Snatching up his weapon, Sam rounded on Alistair and in one swift movement he uncorked the bottle and flung the liquid in the demon's face. Reflexively, he turned away using his hands to shield his face from any stray drops of the corrosive substance.

Sam waited for the screams of agony as Alistair met his demise but the only sound he heard was the demon's bitter, ironic, laughter. Horrified, Sam watched Alistair bring a bony hand to his face and wipe the liquid away.

"Well gentlemen," Alistair said slowly. "The good news for you is that acid can kill me. But the better news for me is that's not acid."

"What?" The word was said in unison, coming from Alistair's left where Dean was struggling to gain his footing and from his right, where Sam was rooted to the floor, horrified.

"Sorry fellows," Alistair took a few quick steps so he was facing both Winchesters. "Close, but no cigar."

"But Cas said it was acid," Sam said, horrified at the thoroughly unfortunate turn of events.

"Isn't it amazing that after so much has happened, you two still believe in your guardian angel."

"There's no way he'd betrayed us," Dean struggled to his feet and took a few halting steps forward. "Not like this, and not with you."

"If it's any consolation, Cas didn't cooperate, but Jimmy Novak did. You two are so gullible that I knew once I used that vessel you wouldn't ask any questions."

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean winced. The pain of being duped suddenly hurt ten times more than damage done by his encounter with the wall.

"Unfortunately I'm not. This was almost too easy."

"So this whole thing about you coming for Dean, all of that was you all along?"

"Yes."

"Well this was a massive and somewhat useless theatrical production. If you wanted to kill me why didn't you just do it?"

"Because I don't want to kill you Dean. What would be the point of that? I've already had you as my special guest, downstairs, as you so disrespectfully call it. There's no excitement in doing that again."

"So what the hell was this all about then?" Sam demanded.

"Let's talk in private," Alistair suggested.

And before Sam could react he stepped towards Dean and rammed his elbow into the side of his head.

"Dean!" Sam gasped as his brother crumpled to the ground again.

"Don't move," Alistair calmly raised a hand in warning.

When he realised Sam didn't intend to stop, Alistair shoved him back several feet.

"To answer your question this is about giving your brother the chance to experience hell right here on earth."

"I'm not going to let you hurt him."

Alistair glanced meaningfully at the spot where Dean lay passed out on the ground. "I'd say you're a little late with that threat Sam."

Sam's face reddened at the obvious truth of the statement.

"But don't worry," Alistair went on. "I'm not going to lay a hand on him. As a matter of fact, I'll get out of your way now so you can tend to his needs."

Suspicion was crawling up Sam's back like a hundred foot insect.

"I swear to God, if you do anything to hurt him I'll..."

"You disappoint me with the extent to which you under estimate me Sam. You think physical pain is what can break a man like Dean? No, my methods are far more sophisticated than that; and now the fun begins."

With that said, Alistair dematerialised in front of Sam's eyes, leaving Sam with a thousand unanswered questions, not to mention an unconscious brother.

After looking around helplessly for several moments, Sam scrambled to Dean's side and shook him urgently but gently.

"Hey, Dean. Can you hear me?"

Dean moaned and mumbled but after a few seconds of urging he opened his eyes.

"What the hell happened?" he whispered trying to sit up. The sudden movement made his head feel light.

"Take it easy," Sam advised, grasping Dean's shoulders as he suddenly fell back.

Rubbing the back of his head, Dean tried to sit up again. It took him several moments to get his bearings but when his surroundings finally came into focus he immediately noticed his brother's worried expression.

"You alright?" Sam asked urgently.

"Yeah," Dean eased out of his brother's hovering grasp.

"I'd be happy to never have such intimate knowledge of a hotel wall again but I'll live."

At the mention of the words "intimate knowledge", the image of Dean and Alex disappearing into the bedroom resurfaced like a haunting flash back. Sam's expression darkened as anger and humiliation registered across his face. His body stiffen as he pulled away from his brother.

Immediately, Dean knew his words had been a trigger. When his little brother broke contact, something was wrong. Suddenly, the main points of Alistair's diatribe came flooding back to him like a damning litany. Knowing he didn't have his brother to lean on, he pulled himself back against the nearest bed for support.

"How much of Alistair's ranting did you overhear?"

"Enough," Sam admitted. The emotions that had surfaced on his journey were surging to the fore, and he wasn't sure if it would be guilt, anger, regret or sadness that would dictate his mood.

Dean met Sam's gaze dead on and what he saw alarmed him. The little brother awe and admiration, that Sam had never been able to totally shake off wasn't there. Instead he was stung by his brother's questioning eyes.

"Was he lying?" Dean asked, knowing the question was moot but the approach was necessary to build his own line of defence.

"No." Sam said plainly.

Their eyes met again but this time Dean could feel the shame searing his very soul.

Sam knew everything.

All the secrets he had tried to hide were now out in the open for the person he least wanted to know them to see.

All the defensive walls he'd erected to protect his fragile ego and safeguard his battered heart had been torn down all around him.

Humiliation gripped Dean like a vice, rendering him breathless under its pressure. Needing to shake it off before it killed him; he struggled to his feet and turned on his brother.

"You bastard," he spat. "You gave me your word you'd just go in and out but you couldn't pass up the chance to do some sightseeing in my head could you?"

"It wasn't like that Dean," Sam defended, shocked at the venomous reaction. "It was an accident."

"Accident my butt," Dean raged. "You were dying to know all of this Sam. You literally tried to shove liquor down my throat to get me to open up."

Sam couldn't believe the tirade he was witnessing. When Dean had found out his secrets he had fully expected Sam to give him a pass because he'd stumbled on the truth by accident. But now, when the tables were turned, his brother would extend no such courtesy. Well he'd be damned if he would accept condemnation from a guilty man.

"Wait a damn minute," Sam growled rising to his feet to meet the verbal assault head on. "You want to talk about betrayal, after you slept with my girlfriend. So what? It wasn't enough that you had bedded every girl in every town we'd ever visited; you had to have Alex too. Even you should have respected that boundary."

"Oh, like you respected your family so much that you didn't even think we were worthy of a goodbye. You walked out on all of us Sam, Alex included; all bets were off. And besides, I don't know what version of events you saw while you were stealing into my head to see instant replays, but the way I remember it, she requested my services."

"Yeah well you never did place a high premium on yourself Dean so I really shouldn't have expected you to discriminate."

"And you showed so much discretion by hooking up with Ruby. Oh, sorry, I forgot she had a pretty good supply of your favourite beverage."

"Don't you dare throw that in my face. I only started that because I was trying to save your life. Lord knows why I even bothered, when you don't seem value it all that much considering you were ready to blow your own brains out in some backwater motel."

"And don't you wish I'd done it Sam? Then I wouldn't be there like a lingering stench reminding you of the life you tried to leave behind."

"I'm sure, deep down, you were glad when I left Dean. You were finally rid of the burden that Dad had saddled you with. You were the one who wished I'd never been born, maybe if I'd known I could have gotten out of your life a lot sooner."

Dean was sure at some point in time he had loved the man standing in front of him more than his own life, but now, he couldn't remember why.

"Well Sam, fortunately there's a way for both of us to get what we want," Dean whispered fighting to control his rage.

He rounded the bed he had been using and grabbed his duffle not even checking to see what was in it. Whatever was left behind he could replace, now he just had to put some permanent distance between himself and Sam.

For his part Sam knew the pattern; when Dean was storming out, he grabbed his keys but when Dean was walking out, he grabbed his bag.

"Now who's the one breaking up our family?"

"You are Sam. You crossed the line the minute you decided to betray me."

"I could say the same thing Dean. Can't you see, you didn't just keep secrets from me it's like you lied to me about who you really are. You never trusted me enough to let me know what was really going on with you."

"And all this whole episode proves is that I was right not to."

Dean shouldered his duffle and headed for the door.

"We've played this scene before Dean," Sam taunted as his brother prepared to leave.

"Yeah," Dean admitted. "But this is the last time we're going to do it. Let's roll credits on this pathetic family saga."

When the door slammed, Sam was too numb to even react. He had started the day determined to save his brother. How had he ended it losing him all together? He had only gone into Dean's head to help him. How had his well-meaning gesture ended up driving his sibling away?

Sam practically collapsed crossed legged in the middle of the room trying to process what had transpired. More than an hour later he was still sitting alone clueless as to what to do next.

The sharp ring of his cell phone made the decision for him.

His hand was trembling when he saw his brother's name blinking on the caller ID.

"Yeah?" Sam answered noncommittally.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice came across the line. "Who am I speaking to?"

The feeling of unease was instantaneous. If someone else was calling him from Dean's phone, then something was seriously wrong.

"Who do you want to speak to?" Sam asked, complying with his father's teaching that you never gave up information just because it was requested.

"This is Joyce Payten, I'm a paramedic."

"Paramedic?" Sam repeated.

_Oh God!_

"Sir, I'm afraid there's been an accident and the victim's cell phone lists this number as the emergency contact."

"Accident?" Sam choked. "What accident?"

"There was a pretty bad smash up involving a black Chevy impala and a truck."

Dread gripped Sam's heart.

"How bad was it?"

"Sir, do you know the driver of the black Impala?"

"Yes, he's my brother."

"Then I'm going to have to ask you to come down to Pinecrest Hospital."

"How bad is it?" Sam repeated desperately.

"Sir, I really don't want to have this conversation over the phone. Please get here as quickly as possible."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	8. At the Edge of the Brink

**A/N: **I want to say a big thank you to everyone who kept prodding me to finish this fic. The muse left me stranded on this one but since I am always majorly disappointed when I get into a story and I'm left hanging I knew I had to make sure I did right by this series.

**A/N: **This is for **YoungJustice101, deanheart22 **and **Tucker2 **who didn't stop until I got back in the game. Happy Reading guys!

* * *

**EIGHT**

**At the Edge of the Brink**

By the time Sam arrived at Pinecrest Hospital he was out of breath and out of patience. After receiving the phone call about Dean's accident he had run out into the street, flagging down random drivers to get a ride to the hospital. Eventually a cab had stopped for him and the entire drive to the emergency room was spent in silent, panicked prayer.

He'd started out bargaining with God, but when your initial offer is to give your own life it's difficult to escalate the stakes in a negotiation. So eventually, Sam resorted to repetitive begging and kept up the silent appeal until the cab pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Sam tossed some bills at the cabbie and then rushed into the building. He stopped at the front desk where he ended up doing battle with an unresponsive receptionist.

"My name is Sam Winchester; I was told that my brother Dean was brought here. He was in a traffic accident."

The woman behind the desk looked at Sam disinterestedly. "What did you say his name was?"

"Dean Winchester."

"And when did you say he was admitted?"

"Today. I got the call about half hour ago and I rushed right over."

"Well no one's been brought in from a traffic accident this afternoon sir."

"I told you I just got the call."

"I know what you said but I'm checking the system and we haven't admitted a Dean Winchester."

"But the paramedics called me and said they'd found my name in his phone."

"And you're sure they said this hospital?"

"Pinecrest? Yes!"

"Well we haven't admitted a Dean Winchester. There's a John Doe that came in a little ago but he collapsed at a bus station. You said your brother was in a traffic accident."

"That's what I was told."

"Did you get the name of the person who spoke to you?"

"Something like Paton ... Payten. That's it, Joyce Payten."

"Give me a minute please sir, I'll just check our service provider's listing."

There was loud typing and mouse-clicking as the receptionist interrogated her computer.

"No, I'm sorry, our service doesn't have anyone with that name on staff."

The panic that Sam had kept at bay with frantic prayers during the cab ride was threatening to overwhelm him again.

"Maybe there was a mix up or something," he suggested, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Is there another hospital around here?"

"No sir. This is the only one in this town and it also serves St. Christopher's and Wakefield, our neighbours on the right and the left. I wish I could be of more help but unless you can get the actual name of the paramedic that called you or something I can't try to trace it."

Sam looked at the blank unsympathetic face of the robot that couldn't have cared less that his brother; the only person that mattered in his life, the only person he had left, was probably in serious trouble and Sam didn't even know where to find him.

The thought of Dean in pain, alone and not even knowing that Sam was looking for him was too much to bear.

"You said you had a John Doe," Sam tried again. "I need to see him."

"I'm sorry sir," the lady said mechanically. "That's not how it works. You'll have to take a seat," she gestured to the neat row of chairs off to the side of the lobby. "And then I'll speak to the doctors and they will tell me if you can see him. As it is, that will have to be after he's been assessed and treated and only if he is able to see visitors."

"To hell with you," Sam yelled as the flood gates broke. "To hell with this!"

He stormed through the closed to doors that led to the interior of the emergency room, disregarding the sign that said "Hospital Personnel Only".

One by one he began flinging doors open, walking into rooms searching for his brother. He had made it half way down the corridor before he was grabbed by what felt like several pairs of strong hands.

"Take it easy buddy," a warning was spoken in his ear.

"Get your hands off me." Sam growled back. "I need to find my brother."

"If you don't calm down we're gonna call the cops and then your brother is gonna be the least of your problems."

"You're the one who's gonna have a problem dude if you don't let me go."

"I understand you're under pressure so I'm gonna give you one more chance."

Sam responded to the offer by breaking out of the restraints and turning on what he discovered were two security guards.

"Grab him Jimmy," the negotiator ordered his partner.

Before Sam could react his hands had been pinned behind his back and he was being violently ushered back out to the hospital lobby. As the burly security guards were shoving him through the doors, Sam suddenly heard a voice he knew better than his own.

"WHAT THE **HELL** DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOT HERE?"

He knew that sound well, it was Dean on the edge. It was his big brother and from the sounds of things he was just about ready to explode.

"I got a call saying there was a freak explosion at the motel where my brother's staying. They said he was in critical condition and they were bringing him to **this** hospital. Now I'm about ten seconds away from blowing this damn place to hell if somebody doesn't tell me where he is."

"Dean!"

Sam broke away from his apprehenders and sprinted to his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice quivered as the sense of relief went to the marrow of his bones. Almost automatically he opened his arms to take in his little brother. "Sammy you're OK."

Compared to the hurt and the rage Dean had expressed the last time they had spoken, Dean's gasping relief was like music to Sam's ears.

For his part, Dean didn't even realise that he has been holding his breath from the moment he received the call telling him that his brother had been injured. And now, seeing Sam alive, well and apparently unharmed, he finally exhaled.

Sam felt his brother shudder against him and tightened his hug. A million horrible visions had flashed through his head from the phone call to the minute he had seen Dean.

"Thank God you're alright," the words were out before Sam could stop them.

"Me?" Dean's disbelief was evident. "They said you were in critical condition."

"Who?" Sam pulled away to look at his brother.

"The paramedic. She said you'd been in some kind of freak explosion they were rushing you to the hospital. She kinda had this prepare yourself for the worst sound in her voice."

"I got the same kind of call. But the lady said you'd been in a smash up."

"What the hell...?"

"OK," the nurse behind the desk piped up. "Clearly, crazy runs in this family. Jimmy, Tom could you please escort these gentlemen out."

"We're going," Sam said striding ahead of the security guards while Dean matched his steps.

Once they were outside, the brothers separated as the relief wore off and suspicion and wariness took its place.

"I don't know what the hell is going on here," Dean said looking uncertainly at his brother. "But I'm guessing Alistair's behind this."

"No he's not," Cas stepped forward. "I am."

Immediately Dean unsheathed his silver blade.

"Stay back you bastard," he brandished the knife threateningly.

Sam glanced furtively around, noting the parking lot was virtually deserted but they were so far away from the Impala that it hardly made sense to try make a run for it.

"It's me Dean," Cas insisted.

"I don't believe you," Sam shouted.

"I've regained control of this vessel."

"Yeah," Dean said dryly. "Well the last guy who showed up in it pulled a pretty big number on us so you will forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"I know what Alistair was doing and believe me I tried to stop him but he overpowered me."

"Tell us about it." Sam held Cas' gaze prepared for any sudden movement.

"I was able to summon help but not before he had gotten to you two. But you don't have to worry, we fought him off and now he's in restraints."

"We who?" Dean demanded. "Who had the juice to pin that animal down."

"Don't under estimate the power of heaven Dean. We will always triumph in the end."

"And I like my fairytales to start with once upon a time."

"I don't care who you say you are," Sam interjected. "But I'm not trusting any of you ever again."

"How do I prove myself to you?"

"You can't." Sam said simply. "I was taken in once before and I'm not about to get fooled twice."

"Dean?" Cas turned his attention to the brother who was the source of his deepest investment. "What would make you believe it's me?"

"Nothing." Sam insisted.

But Dean couldn't ignore how intensely Cas was holding his gaze. Something in his eyes pleaded for trust.

"When you pulled me out of hell and told me that you had orders from God to watch over me, what did I say to you?"

"First you didn't say anything," Cas said unflinchingly. "You just stared at me like I was strange. Then you asked me if it was standard procedure for angels to drink on the job because anyone who thought God had plans for you had to be drunk."

Sam looked at his brother, hoping that Dean wouldn't fall for it. Not after the way Alistair had tricked them before. But instead of disbelief and doubt he saw realisation clouding his brother's features.

"Don't tell me you believe that." Sam said.

"The only two people who could know about that conversation are me and Cas," Dean reasoned.

"Dean, Alistair had us both fooled."

"Yes, but everything he spoke about was stuff Alistair would have known like what happened to me in hell."

"I'm not taking any chances."

"No one's asking you to."

"I don't believe you. After what we've just been through you would risk this? Alistair wants you dead Dean and he's used Cas before."

"And that's why I don't think he'd do it again. The one thing that bastard isn't is predictable."

"And the one thing you are is stupid."

"Quite frankly, I don't give a damn what you think about me Sam."

"That's a fact that's now become quite clear to me."

"And you don't want me to get started on just what you did to get this new found clarity do you Sam."

"Don't throw that in my face Dean. Not with everything you have to hide. You act like you're the only one who's ever fought for this relationship. But first you were ready to walk away from me when you found out my secrets and now you're ready to walk out again because I know yours."

"Stop!" Cas interrupted the escalating dispute.

The brothers whipped around to look at the angel.

"Haven't you two learned anything from what just happened? Dean how did you feel when you thought your brother was hurt?"

In an instant, the crushing fear retraced its course through Dean's veins. The thought that he could have lost Sam for good had threatened to stop his heart. But in the face of an obviously unaffected Sam, he'd be damned if he would reveal the extent of his anguish now.

"OK so I freaked out a bit; that's not the point."

"No, the point is, it was one thing for you to walk away from him but I imagine it was another thing – entirely – when you thought he was seriously injured and perhaps fate would take him away from you. I am sure your precious secrets didn't seem so important anymore when you thought you could lose your brother for good."

When the only response was Dean glaring off in the distance in silent fury, Cas went on.

"And Sam, how did you feel when you thought something bad had happened to Dean?"

"Like a piece of crap considering our last conversation. But now that he's here decidedly not dying and being as stubborn as he's always been I'm seriously wondering what had me freaking out before."

"Don't cry for me," Dean spewed scorn at his younger brother.

"Trust me, I won't." Sam retorted. "I may have been and still am willing to give my life for you but I'll be damned if I shed one more tear."

"If that's the case then you'll both be happy to know that Alistair has gotten exactly what he wanted."

"Like hell he did," Dean challenged. "When last I checked, I'm still alive."

"You really think he wanted you dead?"

"No he wanted me back in hell to be his damn chew toy; killing me was only a means to an end."

"So if that's the case why didn't he do it? He had more than enough chances throughout this whole ordeal, yet he never did."

"How the hell would I know?"

"Think about it Dean. He could easily have killed you but he didn't, and that's because he knew what would be worse."

"What could be worse than hell?"

"Try being estranged from the one person you can't live without."

There was silence as the implications of what Cas said sunk in.

Dean swallowed hard and looked away. Away from Sam, away from Cas, away from the reality that he had walked out on the only person he had every truly been close to. The only one who made his crappy life worth living.

Alistair wasn't trying to kill his body this time; he'd wanted to kill his soul. He'd wanted to separate him from the only person he could never truly do without. And by being willing to walk out on Sam, he had played right into the demon's hands.

Alistair had taken a gamble that Dean's pride, ego and deep-seated need to be loved and respected by his little brother would ultimately win out even over Dean's love for Sam. Even the scum of hell knew that at the end of the day, how his little brother saw him was somehow more important to Dean than how he saw himself.

"I need a minute," Dean said unable to look at his friend or his brother. "Just give me a minute."

Helpless, Sam watched his brother walk away for the second time that day. But this time, he didn't go far, just across the parking lot to the safety of the Impala. Once he was beside his beloved car Dean leaned over the bonnet and appeared to be taking several deep breaths to steady himself.

"I'm confused," Sam admitted softly addressing Cas but not taking his eyes off his brother. "Alistair's plan was never to hurt Dean physically?"

"No," Cas counselled. "He wanted to drive a wedge between you two that was so wide and so deep that you'd never speak to each other again. He knew for Dean that would be more painful than torture and death."

"We played right into it."

"Yes you did," Cas said sadly. "But that doesn't mean you have to keep playing into it."

"This one was messy Cas. I feel like we crossed some lines and now we can't turn back."

"You can't go back Sam but you're brothers. You can move forward. You can get past this."

Sam paused contemplatively, watching Dean as he ran his hands over his face and then through his hair, looking like a man carrying a heavy burden.

"I feel like I don't know him. I feel like there's so much he's kept hidden from me. If he loved me and trusted me why would he hide so much?"

"Because in spite of everything you've both been through, he still wants to be your hero."

Sam closed his eyes, squeezing the lids to keep the tears that were welling up from spilling out. They were going to talk this out, he decided. He didn't care if Dean brushed him off or worse, pushed him away, he had to try.

He meant to go to his brother but when he turned he saw Dean striding towards him. For the first time since Sam's harrowing trip back in time, his big brother made eye contact with him, directly and boldly.

"We need to talk," Dean said when he came within an arm's length of Sam and Cas.

"I'll leave you two alone," Cas said.

In a heartbeat, the angel was gone, leaving the brothers standing face to face with an ocean of uncertainty between them.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	9. Hanging By A Thread

**A/N: **I cannot apologize enough for the lengthy delay between the last chapter and this one. But the good news is that the story is now practically finished so I am pleased to present the second to last chapter. The finale will follow in short order. Happy reading.

**A/N: **This is for deanheart22 who didn't let up on me until I updated this fic. Thanks for the encouragement.

**A/N: **Beta services provided by the legendary Ericka Jane. I'd be lost without her.

* * *

**NINE**

**Hanging By A Thread**

They'd had many hard conversations over the years, but somehow both Sam and Dean knew this would be one of the hardest. As the brothers faced each other in the hospital parking lot their poker faces hid the myriad of emotions that were erupting within. The stoic masks concealed the fear, uncertainty, insecurity, and anger that was raging in both troubled hearts. After several moments of silent contemplation, it was Dean who spoke first.

"We can't talk here," he said looking around the car park.

The wide open space was all but deserted but Dean somehow felt vulnerable. In fact, considering recent events, vulnerable didn't even begin to describe his current position. This was a whole other level of exposure. On top of that, it was starting to drizzle and if the angry look of the night sky was any indication, they were probably in for a massive rain shower soon. Without any further consultation, Dean turned and started towards the Impala.

"We can go wherever you like." Sam's tone was concessionary as he followed behind his brother.

"I need a drink," Dean declared pulling open the driver's side door.

Sam tried to quell the violent annoyance surging through him at his brother's announcement. Once again, alcohol would be the facilitator of their conversation.

When they were both seated in the car and Dean was inserting the keys in the ignition, Sam placed an apprehending hand on his arm.

"I would prefer if there weren't three of us having this conversation."

Dean turned to fix him with an impatient stare.

"The third person being?"

"Your real best friend, Jack."

Hissing dismissively, Dean flashed his sibling off. "As I recall you were the one who invited Jack to our last little talk. Or do you think I don't know you tried to get me drunk so I'd spill my guts?"

Humiliated by both the truthful statement and the physical rejection, Sam swallowed hard as a hot blush stung his face.

"Touché," he conceded softly.

Vindicated, Dean started the car then gunned the engine. As he pulled out of the car park and turned onto the main road the rain began to fall steadily. Less than half a mile later, they were in the middle of a serious downpour.

Unsure of where they were heading and uncomfortable with the tense silence, Sam spoke up.

"Dean, whenever we get around to having this conversation, it has a whole lot of potential to go south pretty fast. So before we start yelling and one of us walks away again, there's something I gotta tell you."

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Dean glanced sideways at his little brother.

"What?"

"I need you to know one thing," Sam took a deep breath and then continued. "I had every intention of being true to my word. I promised I wouldn't go looking around in your head and I never meant to."

Dean flinched and swallowed hard to quell the discomforting twinge messing with his stomach.

"Well, you sure got an eyeful, not to mention an earful, so you didn't exactly stick to the plan."

"I freaked out," Sam admitted. "I saw what Allistair did to you and I freaked out. When I realized what you went through in hell I thought my heart was gonna give out."

Even now, when it was only a memory, even the thought of what his brother had suffered had tears welling up in Sam's eyes. Dean could recognize Sam's tells like the back of his hand, and when his brother's voice started to tremble he knew Sam was being sincere, and more over, he was desperate to be believed.

Looking straight ahead, Dean guided the Impala over the wet road, wishing to hell he could escape this whole damn awkward scene. Dean had never felt more vulnerable in his whole life. He hated the feeling of nakedness that came over him as he sat discussing his worst nightmare with his little brother.

When Sam had been little he had always been overly vocal about the fact that Dean was his hero. And while he'd never admit it to anyone but himself, deep down, Dean had always hoped he still held that honor. But in hell, the so-called hero had been little more than Allistair's chew toy. And now, Sam knew.

"So if you were so freaked out," Dean rasped, fighting to keep his own emotions in check, "why did you stick around to see so much more?"

"I managed to stay until I heard the so-called secret and then I just ran," Sam admitted. "I wasn't even thinking, I just knew I had to get outta there and once I did, I opened the first door I saw and ducked inside. I was just looking for somewhere to hide and calm myself down. But I ended up stumbling on the memory of your birthday in 2001, the year I went to Stanford; and it all went downhill from there."

"Yeah, because after that you were hooked and had to see more?"

"No," Sam was horrified that his brother would think that. "It killed me to see you like that. It killed me to know that I had hurt you so badly."

In spite of the rain, Dean pressed on gas. He had no intention of discussing that day, at any length with, Sam.

"O.K," he said curtly. "So that explains that, move on."

"Dean," Sam pleaded. "We need to talk about it."

"Fine," Dean conceded, but then the invitation quickly transformed into a dismissal. "It was a pretty dark day; but I got through it, end of story."

"No," Sam insisted, desperate to get behind Dean's defenses. "You're not gonna brush this off like that. I saw how much I hurt you and that's what started me off. I had to know if I'd done anything else to make you feel that bad."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. But when I went looking, I saw you and Alex and then everything got out of control."

At the mention of his illicit tryst with Sam's former girlfriend, Dean knew it was his turn to do some explaining.

"Well Sam," he began, looking straight ahead to avoid his brother's eyes. "After my birthday incident at the motel, I spent some time at Bobby's. He invited me over to celebrate my birthday. He must have sensed that something was off when I got there, because he insisted that I hang around. When Alex found out that I was there she started coming by. At first I didn't think anything of it until she started getting friendly, and then she made her intentions clear. I was so mad at you I just wanted to get you back. It was a stupid thing to do but I realized too late. The bottom-line is that I was angry about you leaving and I wanted to hurt you. That's all that was. It wasn't fair to Alex and it wasn't fair to you."

"So what happened afterwards?" Sam asked, risking that he would bitterly regret the answer.

"Nothing," Dean could finally look his brother in the face. "I told her it couldn't happen again and I left Bobby's right away, and didn't go back for a long time."

Sam shook his head and sighed bitterly.

"I didn't want to force her when she said she wasn't ready. But she said she loved me and I believed her. I thought I was going to be the one when the time was right."

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said sincerely. "When they compile Dean Winchester's biggest regrets, that's definitely gonna be in the top ten. But I can't change it now."

"Water under the bridge," Sam said evenly. "I didn't exactly do right by her when I left for Stanford."

"No comment on that one," Dean said making sure to steer clear of Sam's untimely departure and the years of cold silence that followed. If they went down that road it might lead back to that desperate time when he found himself in a motel room with a loaded gun at his head. He had no intention of discussing that any further with Sam.

"I'll be honest with you, Dean," Sam confessed. "I went ballistic after I saw that one. And that's when my plans to not snoop blew all to hell, and I deliberately started looking around in your head. I was livid and wanted to know if you'd done anything else to betray me. That's when I saw you and Bobby, and I guess I really jumped the rails after that one."

"Why?"

"Because it pretty much confirmed what I had feared all my life."

"Which is what?"

"That I was a burden shoved on you by Mom's death and Dad's decision to abdicate his role as parent in favor of revenge."

"No," Dean said, appalled that Sam would even think that. "You were never a burden."

"Yes I was, Dean," Sam said with gloomy resignation. "And you can admit it."

"I won't because it's not true."

"It is, and you had every right to feel that way. You never should have been saddled with fatherhood when you were only a child yourself. You should have gotten the chance to be a kid instead of being a parent."

"Sam, stop."

"No, Dean," San was determined. "It's time someone said this and it might as well be me."

Chafing with annoyance, Dean kept his eyes on the now flooding road.

"I wish it had been different for you, Dean," Sam began earnestly. "I wish you'd spent your childhood playing sports instead of cleaning weapons, or going camping with friends instead of going hunting with Dad. And the thing is, you would have had all that if it hadn't been for me."

"Have you ever once heard me complain, Sam?"

"No, not before. Not until I heard what you said to Bobby."

"Sam, I was just a kid. I was upset because Dad wouldn't let me go camping, that doesn't mean I resented you."

"It's OK if you did. You're allowed to not have wanted what we finally ended up with. It's just that all this confirmed what I had always feared. If I'd never come along your life would have been better."

"Look," Dean ordered, turning his attention from the road to his brother. "Don't even think that. What happened happened. And it sucked for our family but at least I got a little brother out of it and I'll never regret that. OK?"

Sam let his brother's words and the resulting relief sink in.

"OK," he conceded.

"Good," Dean was happy to put that issue to rest. "So let's cut to the last one, let's talk about Jessica."

They would talk about Jess, of course, but Sam had no intention of letting the issues that had brought Dean within inches of a suicide attempt slide. His brother could try to avoid it like the plague, but they were going to talk about that.

"We still need to discuss what happened on your birthday."

"We already did." Dean's tone grew harshly decisive again. "Case closed."

Knowing it didn't make any sense to push his brother once he dug his heels in, Sam didn't protest when Dean swung the conversation in another direction.

"Now, about Jessica," Dean went on when he realized that Sam wasn't pushing the birthday issue. "That one is simple enough."

"Simple?" Sam asked. "What do you mean?"

"It wasn't her, Sam."

"Don't give me that, Dean. I knew Jess better than anyone else."

"It was one of Allistair's favorite pass times; letting me think I was abusing people I cared about."

"What?"

"Jess was only the first. He made me think I hurt Dad and Mom, before he got bored with that little trick and revealed that he had only used their forms to break me."

Stunned, Sam stared at his brother; but Dean's eyes were fixed on the road. Needing the connection, Sam put his hand on his brother's arm.

"Every time I think I'm even beginning to grasp how much you suffered in hell, I realize that I can never totally understand everything that happened to you."

Once again, Dean rejected his brother's touch.

"I don't want your pity!" he yelled, flashing Sam off.

"I know that, Dean," Sam shouted back, stinging from brusque reprove. "You don't want my pity, you don't want my help, you don't want my support. I get that."

"No you don't!" Dean barked as his rage flared. "If you did you wouldn't keep prying into my life; always wanting to know what I'm thinking and feeling!"

"You think I'm doing it for some sordid kind of entertainment?" Sam's voice cracked, betraying his hurt and embarrassment. "I do it because I'm your brother and I wanna be close to you."

"It's got nothing to do with being close, Sam. You just want me to spill my guts like a freaking girl!"

"You really don't trust me do you, Dean? After all that we've gone through you still won't let me in."

"I had this damn talk, didn't I? I told you everything you wanted to know."

"No Dean, you've told me what you wanted me to know."

"So what else is there?"

"Your birthday Dean, back in 2001. I need to know how the hell you ended up in a motel room holding a gun to your head."

"I said I wasn't gonna talk about it, Sam!" Dean yelled, enraged to the point of murder "And if you don't drop it, I swear to God I'll..."

A gigantic fork of lightning pierced the sky in front of the impala, triggering a deafening blast of thunder. Dean jammed the breaks, sending the vehicle into a skid. When the tires lost their bid to grip to the slippery, waterlogged road the vehicle careened off the highway and into a ditch.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

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**A/N: **The final chapter is coming up shortly so stay tuned.


	10. Never Too Far

**A/N: **I want to say a special thank you to everyone for sticking with this fic even though I took a long hiatus midstream. One of my guiding philosophies is that you should always finish what you start. So, as promised, here is the final chapter of this story. Happy reading.

**A/N: **Beta services provided by the amazing Ericka Jane. She's priceless.

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** TEN**

**Never Too Far**

The first fork of lightening was like a trigger that set off rapid flashes punctuated with deafening. Skidding on the slippery asphalt the Impala careened off the roadway, slamming into a nearby ditch. The grip of the seatbelts was the only thing that kept Dean and Sam from being hurled around by the car's violent movement.

When the vehicle crashed to a halt on the side of the road, a disoriented Dean glanced up at the windscreen and saw the lightening blazing down from the sky. Instinctively he grabbed for his little brother. In Dean's mind, the necessary course of action was clear; shove Sam down on the front seat so he could shield him with his own body. But when he reached to grab his sibling Dean found himself being pushed down as the weight of his brother came over him.

Immediately Dean tried to shove Sam off but his younger sibling refused to budge and a struggle ensued. The tussle ended abruptly when deafening thunder shook the car, and the brothers resorted to an awkward huddle. Protest raged through every fiber of Dean's being as he was forced to accept that Sam had gotten the jump on him and had assumed the role of protector.

Hunkering down while his little brother shielded him sent a tidal wave of emotional discomfort crashing over Dean. For most of his life, Dean's automatic response in the midst of any crisis has always been to protect Sam and then look after himself. Standing between his little brother and danger was now second nature to Dean.

But as he found himself practically squashed fetal, Dean realized that somewhere along the line the instinctive need to protect his sibling had become second nature to Sam too. They weren't kids anymore with the older being responsible for the younger. They were grown men who were both strong and capable, and now it would go both ways.

Dean had fought hard to keep the old order but in doing that he had only managed to push Sam away. Every time he'd refused Sam's help or refused to be open or vulnerable he'd rejected his brother.

When the lightening abated and the roaring thunder quieted down to a gentle roll, the Winchesters were left facing each other in the front seat of the Impala.

"You OK?" Sam asked, visually triaging his sibling.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "You?"

"I'm good."

Sighing deeply, Sam turned to look out of the passenger window.

"Look, Dean," he began softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to force you to talk to me about what happened on your birthday."

Dean immediately realized that Sam was throwing in the towel. His little brother had gone out of his way to let Dean know that Dean could confide in him without fear of judgment or rejection, and Dean had stonewalled him at every turn. In holding his brother at arm's length Dean had actually given Alistair a foothold. If he hadn't kept all these secrets from Sam, the demon would never have been able to launch such a brutal assault against him.

So in the midst of a raging rainstorm, in a soggy ditch on the side of a practically dessert road, Dean realized that he owed his brother. He owed Sam the truth even if it made him feel weak and vulnerable. Sam had been man enough to face up to it when his secrets had been revealed and Dean knew it was his turn now.

Quite frankly, Dean would have given what was left of his battered soul to avoid having this conversation with Sam. But it was running away from admitting the truth to his brother that had gotten them into this hell in the first place. And now that he'd run as far as his will could take him it was time to face the truth and worse, to face Sam.

"You're right," he admitted killing the Impala's engine. "You shouldn't have to force me to tell you about that time, I should have volunteered."

Surprised, Sam turned back towards his brother. Dean held his gaze momentarily before shifting his glance straight ahead. Sometimes admissions were easier when you didn't have to look someone in the eye.

"A few weeks before my before my birthday Dad and I had a hunt that was an epic disaster on every level."

"What was it?" Sam asked trying to think of the toughest creatures to go up against. "A werewolf? A vampire?"

"It was a demon," Dean revealed. "And a family. A mother, a father and two boys."

Uneasily, Sam sat back in his seat. A unit that mirrored the Winchesters before demons and vengeance had intervened.

"The Carters were a regular All American family until a demon possessed the mother. We had to do an exorcism and although Dad tried to persuade the father to leave and take the boys out of the house, he refused to go. The demon was of the more resistant variety and by the time we managed to drive it out of the mother, not only was she dead, but that nasty bastard had gotten into the younger son."

"The little boy attacked his big brother and the father - who was freaking out over the mother's dead body - totally lost it and grabbed my knife and stabbed his son. When he realized what he'd done, he took off like a mad man and eventually turned himself in to the police. The older brother who'd had to watch his mother and little brother's murders ended up being institutionalized, and the father got charged for two counts of murder. As hunts go Sam, we'd never made a bigger mess."

"It's always the families that get you isn't it?" Sam sighed knowingly. In all his years of hunting Sam had seen more than his fair share of carnage but a thousand gruesome mutilations couldn't devastate him the way a grieving family could.

"Always," Dean agreed. "In our own ways Dad and I both took this one hard, but it was particularly bad for me. I sank into some kinda depression, I barely got out of bed, I couldn't sleep, I didn't eat and I felt like the life had gotten knocked out of me.

"Dad got all concerned that I wasn't bouncing back like I usually did but he didn't know what to do about it. The truth is Sammy, it all hit too close to home. I mean, demons, a dead mother and a pretty much ruined family, there were too many parallels with our history.

"The day before my birthday Dad asked me what I wanted to do to celebrate. We were staying at this dingy little motel, which really wasn't doing much to lift my mood. Dad thought he could use my birthday to cheer me up so he said we could anything I wanted. So I told him, the one thing I wanted was for us to go to California to visit you. I wanted the three of us to work out some kind of compromise. If you wanted to be at college, then fine but I couldn't stand us being estranged, I couldn't take anymore of the separation. I'd just seen a family devastated in the worse way possible and I wanted my family; more than that, I wanted my little brother. I didn't care if you didn't want to hunt; I just wanted to be part of your life again.

"So that's what I asked for; and Dad said no. He said as far as he was concerned, you'd abandoned us and if anyone should reach out, it should be you. We had a hell of a fight and I asked him if he wanted us to end up like the Carters. They would never be together again but we still had a shot; the only thing it required was compromise. But you know Dad, he didn't do compromise.

"To him you hadn't just rejected hunting you'd rejected us. He said if I couldn't tell from the way you left that you didn't want to have anything to do with him or me then I was dumber than he thought. He went on and on about how he had no intention of chasing after you when you were the one who'd walked out. And if all of that wasn't enough he said that you'd moved on with your life and I might as well move on with mine."

Gripping the passenger door armrest, Sam swallowed silently. Although he had a million questions, whenever Dean started talking freely like this, he didn't dare interrupt. There was always the risk that his big brother would realize he was actually spilling guts and then he would clam up.

"I'd gotten in Dad's face about it and said there was no way you would abandon your family altogether. You may have been mad when you took off but I didn't think that meant you didn't care about us anymore. But Dad wasn't buying that and he pointed out that it had been six months and you hadn't called to see if we were dead or alive, so I was a fool to think that my birthday would get you to break your silence.

"We almost got physical after that, and Dad left. But the last thing I said to him before he stormed out was that he was wrong. I told him that you did care and you would call. And I was so sure you would because ever since you could talk, you had always been the first person to tell me Happy Birthday. But then the day went on and the phone didn't ring. And Dad didn't call either. I'm not sure where he went when he walked out the night before, but he stayed gone for a little while afterwards. I didn't know whether to feel hurt that I hadn't heard from him or relieved that he wasn't around to rub my face in it when I didn't hear from you.

"At some point in the day I found myself asking what was the point of my life? My family was a mess and I couldn't stop other people from going through the same hell we did, or worse. I'd been raised to think the most important thing I could do with my life was to fight evil but what was the point when you ended up watching a father murder his own son? Why was I spending all my waking hours fighting a battle that I was never going to win?

"It was my twenty second birthday and I didn't have a damn thing to show for my whole miserable life. The only thing I'd ever really had that was worth squat was my family and now, I'd lost that."

The statement was like a kick to Sam's gut. It had been more than ten years but it was clear to him that Dean had never really gotten over the sense of abandonment he'd felt that day.

"I'd tried, Sam," Dean said regretfully. "I'd tried to be a good son to Dad and a good big brother to you but that day I felt like it was all for nothing. And that's how I ended up in a motel room with a gun at my head."

"Dean," Sam cut in, desperate to correct his brother's misguided notions. "You were and you always have been a great son and an amazing big brother."

"Don't," still refusing to make eye contact, Dean held up an apprehending hand to signal his unwillingness to continue the dialogue. "Forget it, Sam. It was a long time ago and we've all moved on."

"No," Sam shook his head; he wasn't going to let Dean get away with pushing him off. "Time might have passed but you never really dealt with the fact that you felt like me and Dad abandoned you, and you can't just keep brushing it off."

"What else would you like me to do?" Dean said tiredly.

His brother's defeated tone had Sam squeezing his eyes shut to force back tears. He couldn't break down now; it wouldn't be fair to Dean.

"I want you to stop pretending like it was nothing," Sam pleaded.

"Well," Dean wasn't even trying to disguise the emotional quiver in his voice. "Since you took that little trip around my head you know it wasn't nothing."

"And I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry about the way I left for Stanford and I'm even more sorry about not keeping in touch. It's one of the things I regret most in my life. But I can't undo it now I can only apologize."

"Fine," Dean said softly, still finding it easier to look anywhere but at his brother. "Apology accepted. Please, can we move on now?"

"No," Sam insisted. "Dean, I need you to look at me."

Reluctantly, Dean turned to face his sibling. His stomach fluttered nervously when he met Sam's eyes. He could tell Sam was trying valiantly to keep it together, but Dean's revelations had Sam on the edge of an emotional tailspin. For his part, Dean wasn't doing much better.

"I didn't realize until I saw you sitting there, in that motel with that gun at your head how much I had hurt you and what I had driven you to, and I need you to know that I'm sorry."

Dean couldn't bear it. His own vulnerability laid bare coupled with his brother's obvious anguish was just too much.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered hurriedly, desperate to shut the conversation down. "Everything worked out OK in the end. Bobby called and got me back on track. I got through it; so let's just forget it."

"I can't," Sam squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through his hair. "I can't get that image out of my mind."

"Well you need to," Dean insisted. "It's over and done with so just let it go."

"It's not that simple, Dean," Sam looked upward and ruefully shook his head. "They're a lot of things in my life that I'd like to do differently and somewhere near the top of the list is the way I handled leaving for Stanford but honestly, I didn't know what else to do. No one really teaches you how to deal with life choices when it's lose, lose. And I didn't know how to choose between my loyalty to my family and the future I wanted, so I did the only thing I thought I could do at the time, I just took off.

"That first year, I thought about you constantly and I picked up the phone at least a thousand times, but I didn't know what the hell to say to you if I called. By the time your birthday came around I didn't even know if you'd want to hear from me. And now all I can think is what would have happened if Bobby hadn't called you when he did? What would I have done if you had actually taken your own life? How would I have felt knowing that I hadn't said goodbye when I left and I hadn't been in touch with you for almost a year, and that I didn't even call you on your birthday?"

"O.K, now you listen me," Dean ordered, fighting desperately to keep his emotions under control. "If I had been stupid enough to blow my own brains out none of that would have been your fault, Sammy. Don't ever think you have to apologize for any of the crap that I almost did."

When Dean saw that Sam meant to protest his line of reasoning, he cut him off before he could speak.

"Don't apologize for knowing what you want and for going after it Sam, that's just who you are."

"Yeah," Sam agreed somewhat bitterly. "And every time I go after something I hurt the people I care about in the process."

"Well as far as Stanford is concerned I think you've apologized for that a million times. I really think we need to just put it behind us now, once and for all."

"I agree," Sam said softly. "But I need to ask you something."

Never able to resist when Sam used his little brother voice, Dean braced himself.

"What?"

"Why don't you trust me?"

"Sam, you're just about the only human being, living or dead, that I do trust."

"Then why is it that you'd rather have died a slow and painful death than have me find out the things you did because of Alistair's game?"

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it me. Please Dean, help me understand why there's this whole side of you that you never wanted me to see. Why is there this wall between us?"

Helpless, Dean slumped back in his seat and gazed out of his window at the dark rainy night. If Sam kept this up Dean felt knew he would shatter into a million little pieces that could never be put together again.

"Dean, look at me," Sam appealed, oblivious that his every word was tearing at his brother. "I need to know one thing," Sam continued when eye contact was reestablished. "Is it really so terrible that I know your worst secrets? Is it really so bad that I know who you really are?"

Dean abandoned all efforts to maintain what was left of his composure.

"I have no idea how to explain it, Sam," he whispered. "But growing up with no home, nothing to our names and no place to belong, the only thing I ever had was a little brother who used to look at me with awe in his eyes. I came to treasure that more than I could ever explain to anyone, even to you. But as we both grew older and that awe began to fade, I started to cover up anything that would make me seem like anything less than the super hero you thought I was when you were five. I didn't want you to know that I'd hit more all time lows than you could ever imagine."

"If it's hero worship you're talking about, then you're right; I outgrew that long ago. But I will never live long enough to outgrow my admiration for you, and the gratitude I will always feel for everything you've done for me."

"Sammy..."

"Dean, nothing I found out during this whole ordeal, nothing you've said to me now, and nothing that will happen in the future will ever change how I feel about you. You're not a superhero, you're my big brother. What you are and who you are will always be enough for me."

Dean covered his eyes in a vain attempt to hold back the tears that had welled up at his brother's admission. It had taken Alistair years of unspeakable torture to finally break him and now his little brother had done it in minutes. But with his gut-wrenching confession Sam had given Dean the one thing every human being needed more than anything else: acceptance.

Emotionally exhausted and now blissfully unconcerned about his hero status, Dean leaned his head against the car window and shuddered. Sam could hear the fatigue and the relief but he could also sense the need.

Emboldened and unafraid of rejection, he moved close enough to his brother to slide his arm around Dean's back. When he met with no resistance, Sam gently pulled Dean back against him and then sighed with relief as he felt his big brother lean in to his chest. Moving gently, Sam brought his other hand to rest on Dean's shoulder being sure to hold and not smother.

Sam didn't care if in a few minutes Dean pulled away from him and tried to save face by making a wisecrack about Sam being a girl. He didn't care if this became one of those emotional exchanges that was conveniently forgotten afterwards in deference to masculine dignity.

All Sam cared about was savoring the moment. At long last his big brother was leaning on him.

The walls had finally come down.

**THE END**

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**A/N: **If you haven't already read it, feel free to check out "Deep Dark Secrets" and see what Sam's been hiding from Dean.


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